


Second Chance

by jamiekswriter



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragon Age II Spoilers, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamiekswriter/pseuds/jamiekswriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after Corypheus' defeat in Dragon Age: Inquisition.  Hawke has sacrificed herself to save the Inquistor.  But with the help of an old friend in the Fade, she defeats the spider demon and is trapped alive in the Fade.  Anders, exiled by Hawke over ten years ago, finds out her fate after Adamant and is determined to get Vengeance for her until he realizes she is alive and needs rescuing from the Fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Spoiler Alert *** This will spoil the ending of Dragon Age 2 and most of Inquisition.

Anders watched the Inquisition forces trudge into town from under the shaded overhang of his apothecary shop. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the doorway, stepping into the shadows only when he sensed a few Grey Wardens. Based on the rumors and the comings and goings of troops, Anders knew something big was expected to have gone down. But he never in his wildest dreams thought Adamant fortress would be leveled.

"I'd have sold my cat to see them smash through the walls," Anders said.

At Ser Pounce A Lot's indignant mew, he scritched behind her ears.

"Just kidding."

He had to hand it to the Inquisitor. She replaced him on the top of the infamous mages list some time ago. Closing up the shop early, he decided to go down to the tavern to see if he could buy a round for anyone who could entertain him with the story.

Anders grabbed a table by the bar, with his back to the wall. He ordered a jug of homemade wine and sipped his first glass, looking for someone to call over. A few women tried to catch his eyes, but he stared into his glass instead. Not interested in going down that road today. Even drunk, he still saw Hawke when he closed his eyes. Felt phantom kisses on his neck at night. Woke hard and aching for her. Ten years and his memories were still better than reality with anyone else.

Pushing Hawke out of his mind was a daily occurrence. Justice rolled over the hurt and loneliness inside of him until there was only purpose again. It was how he liked it. No, that was bullshit. It was how it had to be.

"A song," one of the warriors cried. "A song to remember the day."

"Must you?" Anders sneered as a bard stepped up on a table in the center of the bar.

"I call this, Requiem of The Champion," she said, and began to strum her lute.

A pang hit his stomach and Anders drowned it with wine. There were a lot of Champions. Hawke wasn't a member of the Inquisition. Even still, Anders made a mental note to contact someone who could find out just what the Champion of Kirkwall was doing lately. She was in Kirkwall, where she belonged. Right? Anders slowly shook his head. No. Not Hawke. She wouldn't have sat on her ass, safe from the fight when there were strange magical rifts opening up all over the place. She would have gone to investigate. Crap. She could be here now. With these men. He surged to his feet and scanned the crowd, refusing to identify the feelings warring in his heart. What would she look like after ten years? Would time have eased her feeling of betrayal? Would she kill him or kiss him? A grin tore over his face, and Anders wished he had taken the time to bathe and change his clothes.

"She came out of Kirkwall when Corypheus called," the bard trilled.

Corypheus? What the fuck? He's dead.

"He's the bastard that's been opening up all the rifts."

It wasn't until the warrior to his left spoke that Anders realized he said that last bit aloud.

"Corypheus? Alive?" Anders shook his head. That can't be. He was there when they put that twisted bastard down. If Hawke thought Corypheus survived, she'd feel responsible. Anders whipped around to stare at the bard.

_Requiem of The Champion._

"What happened to Hawke?" Justice surged forth in rage-blinded light, before Anders could clamp it down.

The warrior backpedaled so fast, he knocked people over. Anders was beyond caring. Flipping the table, he tore through the crowd to where the startled bard had stopped singing. Anders was under control. Just barely. You don't sing requiems for people who won the day. Fingers itching to crush the bard's throat, Anders shook from the effort to keep his magic from detonating the tavern.

"Don't sing it," Anders warned. "Say it. Where is Hawke?"

"She sacrificed herself."

Of course she did. A low howling started up inside of him. He clenched his fists until his fingernails drew blood. He would not ruin ten years of penitence. He would not unleash the fury of Vengeance until it was needed.

"Tell me how," he said in Justice's voice.

The bard swallowed hard.

"Tell me," Anders shouted and the table she was perched on detonated into splinters.

People fled out of the tavern. A few drew weapons and circled up. Now would not be the best time for the Templars to disturb him, even if they were wearing the Inquisitor's colors.

"The Inquisitor opened a rift to the Fade to escape Corypheus. Hawke, Stroud, Varric . . . "

Anders flinched at each familiar name.

"Blackwall and Dorian fell through with the Inquisitor."

"Stupid knife-eared mage," he said between his teeth.

There were collective gasps at his blasphemy of the Herald of Andraste.

"In order to leave the Fade, they had to fight through hordes of demons and they almost made it."

"Almost?" Anders voice was calm and it gave the bard back her confidence. If she could see the blood bath Vengeance planned for Skyhold, she would be shaking in terror. They would all be pissing themselves. He regarded the remaining people in the tavern. Faceless sheep to be the warning of what was to come. He had accepted their violent deaths as part of Vengeance's plan when one figure stepped up. A dwarf, his crossbow drawn, but pointed down. Tears tracked down the man's cheeks.

No. Not him. Anders needed this. Vengeance needed to kill all of them, and he couldn't if Varric was standing there. Hawke would never forgive him if he harmed her best friend.

"Oh hell, Blondie." The dwarf's voice cracked and shook with suppressed grief.

"Where is she Varric?" Anders felt like a balloon whose air had leaked out. His voice was his own, but he didn't recognize the pain or the pleading in it.

"I got this," Varric said to the surrounding men. "Carry on." He took Anders by the arm and tugged him outside.

"I need to see her . . ." Anders choked on the last word. "body."

"Good luck with that kid," Varric said. "She held a demon at bay so we could escape the Fade."

"Stroud." Anders wheeled on Varric, clamping onto his upper arms. "He's a Grey Fucking Warden. He should have stayed to fight the demon. Not her. I will kill him for that. I will kill all of them for that." Vengeance roared through him and Anders lost himself in the white, hot, fury. It flooded out the debilitating pain of loss. The howling went on inside him, but Varric never let go and Anders couldn't free the destructive power without damaging the dwarf.

"She wouldn't let him," Varric said, when the fury burned itself out and Anders sagged to his knees. "You know how she gets."

Anders laughed without humor. "I always thought that I'd see her again."  He slumped back against the wall, his arms and legs weak and shaking. "How was she?"

"She was Hawke."

Anders nodded. Of course she was. "Did she ever mention me?" The question jumped out before his pride could stifle it. Did she lie awake thinking of how much they loved each other before he fucked it all up? His head dropped, too much weight suddenly for his neck to hold up. He wouldn't have left her in the Fade. He would have died with her. Or defeated the demon with her.

Hope hammered into his heart. Maker, it was just a demon. Hawke had fought the bleeding Arishok single-handed and survived. Could it be possible?

"I've got a letter for you. From her. In case. She wrote it awhile ago." Varric shuffled through his pack.

"You were there," Anders said, not thinking about that.  Not daring to wonder what her last words to him would have been.  Did she need an entire letter to say Fuck off?  Or I love you.  Or . . . He sighed. "Tell me about the fight."

"Gigantic spider demon. We had it. It went down. And then it's mother joined the fray. Or something bigger and ruder. We were out of lyrium, bolts, spells . . . Had we been fresh, who knows?" Varric gripped Bianca tight. "I keep going over the fight in my head. We did everything right. But in the end, the Fade had more demons than we had resources. I wasn't going to leave her, but she promised me she was right behind me." Varric blinked back tears as he handed Anders the letter. "I should have known she was lying."

Anders cradled the letter against his chest.

"Aren't you going to read it?"

Anders shook his head. "If I do, she'll really be gone. As long as I don't open this, there is something of her in this world." He rose to his feet. "Thank you, my friend. I'm glad to see you one last time." He turned and headed back towards his shop. He had to find someone to take care of his cat.

"Where are you going?" Varric asked, moving fast to catch up to him.

"Weisshaupt first."

"You can't go after Stroud. The wardens need him. Corypheus played a mind fuck on them. Like he did on you back in the castle when we thought we killed him."

"We did kill him." Anders whirled back around.

"I know. I don't understand it either."

"Vengeance will have his day." Anders felt the stirring again. He relished it. Needed it. "Hope you don't see me again Varric. Hope that I die at Weisshaupt because I'm coming to Skyhold next."

"She wouldn't have wanted this," Varric spoke, low and urgent.

"She got what she wanted from me for ten years. Ten wasted years," he shouted the last. "I should have been there." Grief was going to kill him before any Grey Warden had the chance to.

"What if she's not dead?" Varric asked, quickly.  

It shook him.  Hearing his very thoughts mirrored.  His breath caught. "What do you know?" Anders demanded. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I know nothing about this Fade bullshit, Blondie. You know that. But I know Hawke."

Anders nodded.

"If she didn't die. Then she's trapped in the Fade."

"And that's why I'm coming for your Inquisitor next," Anders snarled.

They stared at each other. Varric was searching his face for something.  Answers?  He had none.  Assurances?  None of them either.

"Am I crazy?" Varric said. "There's no way she could still be alive, right?"

The question hit him in the face like a slap.  He let out a shaky breath.  Could she?

"This *is* Hawke we're talking about," Anders said, his heart beating with stupid hope again.

"If she's trapped in the Fade, she's going to need you."

"Don't play me, dwarf. I will still kill Stroud. But I'm a patient man. I waited ten years for Marian Hawke to come back to me. I can wait awhile longer to avenge her."


	2. Hawke

Chapter Two

Hawke kept one eye on the spider demon and one eye on Varric, until he jumped through the portal. When it closed, Hawke felt the weight of finality on her shoulders.

"Just you and me, ugly," she said diving into a forward roll to avoid a spray of poison.

Leaping to her feet, she sent a wave of ice under it and watched it skitter for balance. While it was distracted, she followed it up with as many lightning strikes as her staff would snap out. She had a moment to down a lyrium potion and then she threw the bottle at the demon. It popped right between it's eyes, but didn't do anything but give Hawke the satisfaction. Fighting a moving battle, she drew it away from the closed portal just in case. It caught her across her thigh with a vicious claw. Burned like acid. Stumbling, Hawke sent out a gout of fire that had it scurrying back. She was running out of energy, both magically and physically.

_Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered?_

"I'm going to take you with me," she said between her teeth.

It wasn't a bad way to die. Hawke strengthened up her barrier, while she took the last health potion. Varric was going to take it the hardest. Well, maybe not the hardest. She allowed herself to think of a golden-eyed man with a sardonic grin. Maybe Anders would have a drink in her honor. Maybe he'd destroy another chantry. It was hard to tell with him.

Dodging another claw, she grinned as she sent it flying with a belly shot of lightning. "Take that, you bastard."

Then it was her turn to go ass over teakettle when it charged. She crunched a dagger through it's carapace and walloped it with her staff. Ouch. That had been unexpected. She rolled a grenade under it and coiled up as a claw stabbed into her side.

Maker damn it.

_You couldn't even save your city. You're a failure and your family died knowing it._

Didn't they kill the fear demon? Yes. It wasn't still speaking in her head. This was all her.

"Knock it off," she told herself.

Hawke got up a little more slowly and took the last regeneration potion. It was going to be over soon. She was bleeding faster than healing and that thing was barely slowed down. Rolling her head on her shoulders, she pumped every offensive spell through her staff at the thing while backing away. Blood dripped from her nose as she pushed her magic into desperate streams. It was working. The thing was afraid to advance. Could she run? Escape it? Maybe if she got a little more stamina back she'd survive this. It leapt for another pouncing strike. Hawke caught it in mid air with a jar of bees and took off running. So much for more stamina. She hated running. Especially, in an unfamiliar place with weird terrain and she was probably going to run into an ambush or another demon's nest.

"Help?" she cried. Maybe the Divine or another friendly spirit could point the way.

There was an answering flash of light up a hill on her left. She'd take that as a sign. The spider was gaining on her. Hawke sent an ice spray that swept it into a rock face, and she dug in to take the hill. It was a mistake. She gained the hill, but it was wide open. Nowhere to hide. Her breath came fast and short, but she forced herself on. The spider crested the hill and sent out a stream of venom that splashed at Hawke's feet. She was out of spells. OK. Hand-to-hand then, Hawke twirled her staff and then went down hard on one knee as her leg went numb. The poison caught up with her.

Damn it all. At least, the Inquisitor and Varric were free. Stroud would see that Carver wasn't sacrificed. And the Inquisitor would stop Corypheus for good this time.

The spider demon snorted, rearing up for a final charge. Hawke pushed herself back to her feet and set her staff. There would be no going gently into this good night. She thought again of Anders as she made peace with dying. He had been wrong to kill those innocents. But he had also been right. In war, innocents died. The mage situation in Kirkwall had been a powder keg. It was going to have exploded on its own anyway. Anders helped it along. And in doing so, showed the world that the mages would no longer stand for the chantry's treatment of them. It would have gone down eventually with or without Justice.

Nothing you did mattered, Hawke.

Except, because of her, now an elven mage was going to save the world. Hawke wished she could live to see that. Maybe, go search out Anders and see if they could start over. Or barring that, have one night of ridiculously good sex. She was pretty sure she could convince Anders to give her that, at least.

_Never leave me._

She had asked him all those years ago. But in the end, she was the one to leave. It was either that or put a knife in his back. She waited for the sting of betrayal to hit her, but time had washed it away to a dull ache of disappointment. He should have told her what he had planned. She should have worked harder to evict Justice from him.

Soon all the should haves would no longer matter. Hawke tensed as the demon pounced. She charged in to attack it's exposed belly, leaving herself open for it's fangs. She tilted her head back even as she jammed her staff straight up into the beast's vulnerable abdomen. Let it rip her throat out. Less pain and she'd die quicker. But a blast of movement knocked the beast's head away. Hawke saw a chunk of it sever off and go flying. What the hell? Her staff speared into it's stomach. She wrenched it to open a larger hole. Black ichor spilled out and she tried to dodge it, but was caught in the flailing legs. Something was on top of the creature, hacking away.

Hooray for the cavalry.

A large slashing cut split the demon in two, unfortunately with Hawke still under it. The body collapsed on top of her, drenching her in vile liquid.

"Not complaining," she said, gagging.

Dragging herself out from underneath the carcass, Hawke took in great gulps of air. Her rescuer came around into her line of vision. She had a glimpse of bare feet.

Bare feet?

And the tip of a massive great sword before her rescuer crouched down.

"You all right, Hawke?"

Fenris. Dear Maker, she was staring at Fenris.

His lyrium tattoos shone blue in the Fade. He held out a hand to her to help her up.

"Interesting," Hawke said. "You're dead, you know."

"You should know.  You killed me," he replied, a trace of wryness in his voice that was so familiar.  So Fenris, that Hawke choked up.

"Technically," Hawke rolled up on her elbow and pushed to a sitting position. "Varric's crossbolt to your throat probably killed you. If not, Aveline cutting you nearly in half finished the job."

Fenris grunted.

"Why did you go after Merrill first? I was the bigger threat."

"I didn't want to kill you, Hawke. Just stop you from making another stupid mistake. Abominations, blood mages, and you still couldn't see their danger. You still wanted to help them. I was going to knock you out and take you out of the fight."

"After you killed Merrill."

"She was a blood mage," Fenris ground out.

"She was my friend. Is my friend," Hawke corrected. She looked at herself covered in gore and sighed. "If you hadn't attacked, we could have talked about it. I could have convinced you that we had to help the mages. The templars under Meredith were out of control."

"The mages were out of control."

"Everyone was out of control," Hawke whispered. "I'm sorry I got you killed. I loved you, you know."  Even if he was some type of Fade mind fuck, she needed to say that to him.

"I wasn't out of your bed long enough to cool before you replaced me with that abomination."

Hawke surged to her feet, wobbling only a little. "That was your choice, Fenris. All your choice."

He sighed. "I know. I know. Don't think I didn't regret it every day since."

"Is that why you're here?" Hawke waved her hand around. "Some kind of penance?"

Fenris snorted. "The lyrium," he pointed to his body. "was not only in my body. It was in my soul. I'm trapped in the Fade. Only unlike you, I truly am dead."

"How did you find me?"

"Hawke, you shine with a light that is like a beacon. Me and every other dead thing could see exactly where you are."

"Peachy," she said. She stepped in and gripped his arm. "You feel real."

"Reality is over rated," he said. "It's good to see you, Hawke."

He stepped up close, rubbed his thumb across her cheek.  

She shrank away.  "I'm covered in filth."

"I don't care.  You're here, and that's all that matters."

"It's good to see you too."  Hawke crushed him into her arms.  He saved her life.  Even after all this time, he was still her friend.  She had mourned him the most.  Missed his sarcastic wit and the warm affection in his eyes. His rare smile would warm her inside for days.  Now, he was real again. He looked just the same as he did all those years ago.  His muscles were familiar and solid under her hands.  If she was trapped forever in the Fade, at least she had her friend at her back again.

She released him and tried to step back to look into his eyes, but she was surprised as all hell when he  didn't release her.  A long forgotten flame kindled inside her at the heated look in his eyes.  Before she could ruin the moment with a witty remark, he kissed her.  Her eyes fluttered shut and she was back in Kirkwall, pressed against the stone wall of her mansion.  Their mouths battled for dominance, like they had so long ago. Hate and love seemed too close to tell apart back then.  She made a wild noise in her throat and he answered back in a growl that left her weak-kneed.

There was still time to change things.  Still time to make things right.  She could have a second chance.  She would kill Meredith.  Convince Cullen to lead the city.  Get rid of the lyrium. Find Corypheus' lair. . .

But the glory of the kiss, burned into a deeper hunger and Hawke came back to her senses.  This wasn't Kirkwall.  This was the Fade.  There would be no long, grand soak in her custom made tub.  No making love in front of her fire place for hours on end.  She was weakened from poison and blood loss, in the arms of her former lover who may or may not be a demon. Desire still raged through her, and she pulled back on his hair to break the kiss.

"What?" he snarled, and pleasure coiled through her.

"This is neither the time nor the place," she said.

He sighed.  "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right."

"I need to recover."

"I have a safe place."

"You," Hawke pressed her finger into his chest.  "You are my safe place."

He nodded.  "I don't know how to get you home.  You do not belong here.  But for as long as you are here.  I am yours."

"Take me home," she said, leaning against him.

 


	3. Anders

Chapter Three

"So, I tell you I'm going to blow up the place, and you lead me in through the back gate?" Anders steered his horse through the courtyard of Skyhold. "I think this Inquisitor of yours should know about your dubious loyalty."

"Stow it, Blondie," Varric said, dismounting in the stable. "You wouldn't get a chance to make a move. Not that I'm challenging you or daring you to." He grabbed the reins of Anders' horse after he dismounted, and brought them into the stable. "The Inquisitor took out Corypheus in both his demon magister form and in his dragon form. Not to mention, she's a dragon slayer and a necromancer. You'd be a thorn in her side, but not much else. Sorry."

Anders shrugged, pulled his cowl down over his eyes as a bearded man came out of the stables and looked him over suspiciously.

"Blackwall," Varric nodded at him and then motioned Anders to follow him up the castle stairs.

Blackwall?  Along the journey, he had heard tales about Warden Blackwell.  Would he try and turn him in to the Grey Wardens?  But before that suspicion could play out, the bard's words came back to him. Anders whirled to face Blackwall. "You were in the Fade with Hawke." His fingers itched for his staff on his back, but he refrained -- for the moment.

"That's right. She was a brave lady and a dangerous fighter." Blackwall leaned against the side of the barn. "If you're going back for her, you can count me in."

Anders nodded tightly. It was so like Hawke to have made friends and allies in such a short time. She commanded loyalty and respect with her take charge and leave no prisoner behind attitude. It wasn't fair that they left her behind. But it also wasn't their fault. "Thank you," he said, swallowing hard. "But the less living people in the Fade, the better."

"They say you're a Grey Warden."

"So much for sneaking in." Anders quirked an eyebrow at Varric.

"I didn't say we were sneaking in. I said we had to avoid Cullen and Cassandra."

"Cullen." Anders lips curled in a sneer. "Hopefully, he's doing better for the Inquisition's mages than he did for Kirkwall's."

"Cullen is the Inquisitor's squeeze. You'd be better off keeping your opinions to yourself," Varric warned.

But Anders was distracted by the flash of regret on Blackwall's face. It rang familiar. He'd seen that look on Fenris' face often enough. It seemed Blackwall and the Inquisitor had a past. Anders couldn't imagine why a mage would want someone with Cullen's prejudices, especially over a stalwart man like the one in front of him. But thinking about Fenris brought up a good question about Hawke's companions. Where were they? When he realized that Blackwall was still waiting for an answer, he said. "I used to be a Grey Warden. Although," Anders looked out into the distance. "I suppose once a Grey Warden always a Grey Warden."

"Did you hear Corypheus' call?"

"A long time ago," Anders said.  

"What about this time?"

Anders shook his head. "I hear lots of voices."

Varric barked out a short laugh. "I'll say."

"If Corypheus did speak to me, he wasn't important enough to pay attention to," Anders said. "I had other matters to attend to first before throwing myself headlong into the dark roads. Again."

"Why did you leave the Wardens?" Blackwall asked.

"They left me," Anders said, and clamped his mouth shut before he followed that up with, "Everyone leaves me." No sense leaving himself wide open for the reasons why everyone left him. Mage. Abomination. Slayer of Templars. Murderer of innocents. Not that anyone in the circle or the chantry was innocent. He felt a rant coming on.

"Care for a drink? They make a nice ale here," Blackwall asked.

Anders considered it. "People don't usually invite me out."

"I know what it's like to have actions in your past fuck up your present."

Now, there was a story to be told, Anders thought.

"Not right now," Varric interrupted. "But maybe we can put together a game of Wicked Grace later?"

Anders would give his left arm to play Wicked Grace with Hawke again. He supposed Varric would be an adequate replacement, though. A feeling of home settled into him and he forced himself to shake it off. He didn't belong in Skyhold and he certainly didn't deserve to be relaxing and playing cards while Hawke fought for her life. If she was even still alive.

"She is."

Anders looked around to see who said that. It had been a boy's voice. Thin and reedy. But there was no one around them. He tested the veil between the worlds, but it was strong here. It was possible, it was just another one of those voices that he mentioned to Blackwall. The thought comforted him, anyway.

"I'm coming for you, Love," he thought back.

"Until later, then." Blackwall went back into the stables to work on a wooden rocking horse.

Anders followed Varric up the stairs. "So that was Warden Blackwall?" he asked Varric when they reached the battlements.

"Sort of. It's complicated."

The view from here was so open it almost made him feel claustrophobic. The sky went on forever. There might be peace here. He shook away that clingy bitch of an emotion, hope. There was no time for that now. "When do I get to meet the mage? Dorian, I believe the bard said?"

"Later." Varric let him inside a lushly decorated room. "Get settled. I'll come back in a few hours and bring you over to the mage tower with the rest of the mages."

Anders' eyes caught on a mabari figurine that was on the writing table. He picked it up. "You put me in Hawke's room."

"Is there a problem, Blondie?"

"It's better than the dungeon." He rubbed his thumb over the carved stone. He had given this to her, after Spike became too old to take on their adventures. "Speaking of which, who is this Cassandra I should avoid?"

"A Seeker."

Anders snorted. "Do I make her uncomfortable?"

"She was in charge of investigating what happened at the Kirkwall chantry. If she finds out you're here . . ." Varric trailed off. "She'll probably come after the both of us."

"Why am I here?" Anders cradled the figure in his hand. She probably only kept it because it reminded her of Spike, not him.

"The Inquisitor has the world's premiere library on magic. It rivals Tevinter. If there's a spell to find Hawke in the Fade, or something to help. It will be in these books, or at the very least, if we all put our heads together something will come up."

"Have you sent for the others?" Anders sat on the bed and refused to picture Hawke lying next to him. Still a stray scent of her carried up to him and his body tremored. Shit. Next thing you know he'd be burying his head in her pillow and jerking off to the sheets. Anders blew out a deep breath.

"Vivienne, Dorian, Fiona, Lavellen, and you."

"What about Merrill?"

"Daisy?" Varric laughed. "She's with her clan. I sent a letter to her about Hawke, but I haven't heard back."

"Fenris, didn't get in touch either?" Anders asked it casually. While Cassandra might be the immediate threat, the elven assassin was the greater one. His hate was more personal and up close.

Varric sobered. "He's dead. Long dead."

Anders looked up from the dog statue. "What aren't you telling me?"

"It's ancient history, Blondie. It's not relevant."

"He hated mages. More than he loved her." The mournful, wispy voice said. But this time, a figure materialized in the room.

Anders lunged for his staff.

"Easy. Easy." Varric said. "It's just Cole."

"It's not just Cole." Anders pointed his staff at the boy in the large hat.

"He's a spirit and a human. It's complicated," Varric said, waving his hands. "But he's harmless."

"He's carrying blades as long as my arms."

"But I'm not going to use them on you. Unless you force me to."

"That's not very comforting," Anders said.

"I'm sorry," Cole said, and he sounded like he meant it.

"Maybe you should come along to the meeting too, kid," Varric said.

"What did he mean, 'he hated mages, more than he loved her'?" Anders leaned the staff against the wall.

"He hated you most of all," Cole said. "And not because you were a mage."

"Ah," Anders said. "Fenris. How did you . . .?"

"It's what he does." Varric sighed. "You get used to it."

"She loved you with the force of an exploded grenade."

Anders wiped his hand down his face. "And that was the damage of it too."

"But you loved Vengeance more than her."

"That's not true," he said, cold panic setting in as the weight of truth settled into him.  Shame crashed over him.  He had been a young idiot.  He should have never let her get close to him.  He broke both their hearts. But like destroying Kirkwall's chantry, he may regret it but he would do it all over again.

"She would have killed anything for you."  Cole looked off into the distance.  "But she couldn't kill you."

Anders voice left him and shame burned in his gut.

"I lied," Varric said. "You don't get used to it. Come on, kid, give Blondie here a break. He's got a tough couple of days ahead of him."

Cole moved to leave but turned back. "She doesn't love him. But he promised to stop looking for you. So she stayed with him."

"What?" Anders felt the grinding anger of Vengeance. "Who?"

"Oh kid," Varric groaned. "When are you going to learn not to say everything that flits through your head?"

"He wanted an heir. But she couldn't have one. So she found him a bride." Cole shook his head. "But he loved her. He loves her more than Fenris did. He loves her more than you do."

Anders legs refused to hold him. Luckily, the bed was nearby.

"That's enough true confessions for right now. Anders, try and get some rest."

The door closed behind them, but Vengeance was still too close to the surface. He strode to the closet and pulled aside a long ball gown. It was exquisite. A peacock blue with a low neckline. She would have had men dropping to their knees when she wore this. He pushed it aside. Armor. Guard uniform. Starkhaven colors. He gripped the leathers in his fist. Fucking choir boy. Prince of Starkhaven. He would have made her his princess. Princess Marion Hawke Vael of Starkhaven. His stomach roiled and if there had been anything in it, he would have thrown it all up. What could a hunted apostate mage ever offer that would compare to being a Princess? Fucking chantry bastard. If Hawke wanted to hurt him, she couldn't have picked a better way. He slumped to the floor and rocked as Vengeance spilled out of his pores.

She slept with Sebastian. She lived with Sebastian. Sebastian Vael woke up every morning to Hawke in his bed. Went to sleep every night with her in his arms.

"Weisshaupt, Starkhaven, then Skyhold," Vengeance whispered.

"Listen," Cole's voice cut through the throbbing in his head. "Would you just listen? She didn't love him. But he promised to stop looking for you. So she stayed with him."

_My fault. Once again._

Vengeance retreated, leaving only a headache that kept Anders prone on the floor. The stone was cool beneath his forehead and if he felt the need to bash his head against it, it was close and available.

"I'm so sorry, Hawke. I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"She knows. She's sorry too."

Anders scrabbled to a sitting position, but he was alone in the room. "Can you sense her in the Fade?"

"Yes. She screams her presence."

Yes, well, that was Hawke. Relief eased some of the turmoil in his gut. The room still whirled and blackness touched the edges of his vision. He was tired of being so angry. When the door kicked open and a big woman with severe cheekbones strode in, he didn't have the presence to resist.

"You," she seethed.

"Cassandra, the Seeker, I presume?" He said, not flinching as her sword poked him in the chest.

"I should kill you. I should run you through." Her breathing was erratic and he recognized the wild grief in her eyes.

"You should," he said. Hawke should have ten years ago. He never expected to go unpunished. The end was almost a relief. Still, if he could bring Hawke back out of the Fade, he owed it to her to live. "But you're not going to." Anders smacked the sword away.

"I'm not?" Cassandra growled.

"If you were going to, you would have done it. Not talked about it."

"I am bringing you to the Inquisitor. I demand justice."

Justice lit his eyes silver. "Be careful what you wish for, Seeker."


	4. Hawke

_"Hawke, you have to fight the poison. I don't have the antidote."_

Hawke heard Fenris' voice as if he was speaking through a wind tunnel.  She grasped his hands and held them close to her.  

"It's okay," she tried to tell him.  She didn't mind dying.  She had said her good-byes and made peace with that when she let the Inquisitor seal the portal with her in the Fade.  It was nice not to be alone.  It was all right to let go with him so near to her.  Who would have thought that Marian Hawke would die in bed, albeit one in a cottage smack dab in the Fade?

_"Fight.  Damn it.  I will not lose you now.  No. No.  I won't allow it."_

Hawke's vision spiraled down into blackness and there was peace.  Waking up groggy, all the pain and aches were gone.  Her cheek rested on a soft pillow.

"Fenris?" she said, sitting up and looking around her in shock. She was in her mansion in Kirkwall.

"Not exactly my idea of heaven," she said.  "But I supposed it's not all that bad."  She picked at a stray thread on her blanket.

"Marian are you up?"

Hawke stared at the doorway.  "Mother?"  Only there weren't any abhorrent stitches in her neck or arms.  Staggering to her feet, Hawke launched herself at her mother and enveloped her in a bear hug that lifted the woman off her feet.

"Put me down," Leandra commanded.

"I'm sorry," Hawke stammered.  "I'm so happy to see you."

"What's all the noise?"  Carver asked, from the hall.  He was crunching on an apple.

"Carver, you shouldn't be here."  Hawke strode over to him, poking him in the chest.

"Ow.  What are you talking about?"

He didn't have any blight marks on his body.  Had they lied to her about him being dead?  "Carver, were you sacrificed by the Grey Wardens?"

"Are you feeling all right?" An impossible voice asked from behind her.

"Bethany?"  Hawke whirled back to identify the speaker, and behind her mother was her sister.  She ran to her.

"Oh, it's hugs for everyone, I see," her mother said as Hawke hugged Bethany.

"I didn't get a hug.  I got poked," Carver complained.

"Where's dad?"  Hawke said, standing on her tip toes.  She couldn't wait to see her father again.

"What?"  Her mother's shocked gasp brought her back to reality.

"That's it.  We should get a healer," Bethany said.

"Are you hung over?  Too much time at that tavern of ill repute with that dwarf and pirate woman," Leandra scolded.

"Aw, Mom," Carver said, a blush staining up the back of his neck.  "Isabela isn't all that bad."

Hawke nodded.  "Yeah, she really is.  Look, I've got to go."  She grabbed her staff.  "Carver, stay out of the Dark Roads."

"The what?" he said.

"Bethany, stay away from ogres.  And templars.  And for the love of Andraste, don't go anywhere near the chantry.  In fact, you should both stay home and protect Mom.  There are a lot of crazy people out there."  She staggered out the door.

"Yeah, and you're one of them," Carver called after her.

Hawke sank against the outside mansion trying not to hyperventilate.  Joyous barking came closer and as she turned, a large dog launched himself into her arms. "No, Spike, you can't come with me.  You're too old."  Only when he calmed down enough to sit and stare adoringly at her, she realized he was in his prime.  "Where am I, boy?"  Were all of her family just demons taunting her in the Fade?  Was she hallucinating?

"Fenris," she called, reaching out into the air in front of her.  But she didn't feel anything.  Her own voice echoed back at her. "Am I dead?  Or crazy?"

Spike barked, but she wasn't sure which one he was voting for.  She must be here for a reason.  She was in Kirkwall and for reasons she couldn't explain, her sister was alive.  Her sister never made it to Kirkwall.  So things were different.  Maybe she could change things.  Maybe it all didn't have to end like it did. This could be her second chance to make things right.

_Nothing you ever did mattered, Hawke._

Not this time.

She had a choice. Anders' clinic in Darktown, The Hanged Man, or Fenris' mansion.

"Well, we're already in Hightown," she said to Spike.

Spike barked once and turned around in a happy circle.  When they got to Denarius' mansion, though, it was empty.  Debris littered all over the floor and the fireplace was cool.  "Fenris?" she called out again, but he wasn't there.  The wine in the cellar was fully stocked, so that led her to believe that he hadn't been there yet.  Unless this really was paradise and the wine never ran out.  Deciding to test that theory, she uncorked one of the bottles and took a long gulp.  It'll do.  Not too sweet and not too woody.  She lit a fire in the fireplace.  Spike circled once and lay down. Hawke drank until the bottle was gone.  No one showed up.  No Fenris. No demons.  When the bottled didn't magically fill up again, Hawke flung it into the dying embers.  Spike yipped and jumped up.

"Sorry," she slurred.  "I'm an ugly drunk."

She should have gone to The Hanged Man next.  That was the plan.  But her feet took her to Darktown instead.  She expected the clinic to be empty.  So she lost her breath when she saw Anders. He was spirit healing a boy.  How young Anders looked! Hawke's feet of their own volition took her into the clinic and she slumped on the waiting bench.  Hawke had forgotten how handsome he was.  His intense gaze as he worked on his patient was alluring.  A smile tugged on her lips.  He finished up on his patient and when they thanked him and left, Anders' knees wobbled and he leaned against the wall for support. Instinctively, she lunged to help him.  

He whirled, his staff up. ""I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation! Why do you threaten it?"  Was she imagining it, or did his eyes flash a bit?

"You want a piece of me, Justice?  Bring it," she snarled, unlatched her own staff. The wine fired her blood, making her reckless.  She was also an aggressive asshole when drunk.  "Let's blow this clinic to hell and back.  That will stop your nasty little plan for the chantry, won't it?"

"How did you know about Justice?  Are you a Templar?"

"Do I look like a fucking Templar?"  Hawke shouted.  "I'm not here for a dark road map this time.  And I'm certainly not going to trudge through the sewers for your bullshit Sela Petrae, or through mounds of poisonous spiders for drakestone.  Spiders, Anders.  Do you know how much I hate spiders?"  She screamed the last sentence.[  
](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Sela_Petrae)

Anders stepped backwards.  "Who are you?"

"I'm not letting you blow up the chantry.  I'm going to kill Meredith and you're going to let Elthina compromise."

"There is no compromise," Justice spoke.

"There you are, you bastard," Hawke said through her teeth.  "You're going to leave Anders.  You want true Justice?  Come into me.  Leave him alone.  His anger will destroy you both."

"No," Anders shouted.  "You don't know what you're asking."

"I know everything," she yelled back.  "I wish to Maker I didn't.  But I've seen your future and it is ugly.  I love you too much to let that happen."

"What?" Anders asked.  "Who are you?"

"Come into me, you bastard.  Leave Anders alone.  You want an instrument of destruction?  Watch this."  Hawke let a stream of magic explode the far wall of the clinic.  "I will drown us in blood, Anders, to keep you safe."

"You're mad," Anders cried.

Hawke laughed, feeling like she was invincible.  That was some damn fine wine.

"So be it," Justice said and walked through Anders.  "You think I can't hear you, Hawke?  You think because Fenris is with you that you are safe?"

"Wait," Hawke stopped mid-cackle as a ghostly suit of armor approached her.

Anders sank to his knees.  "You don't know what you've done."

"How do you know about Fenris?  Where is he?" Hawke didn't retreat as the spirit stood chest to chest with her.

"Don't do this, Hawke.  Hawke!" Anders begged.

Justice slipped inside her.

"Hawke!"  Fenris said, and caught her as she lunged up from the bed, screaming.

She was in the Fade, in Fenris' bed.  She clung to him until her screams turned to sobs.  "He's coming for me, Fenris."

"Let him come."  Fenris held her until the shaking stopped.

"You don't know who I'm talking about."  She rested her head on his shoulder.

"It doesn't matter."


	5. Anders

Varric picked the lock of Anders' dungeon door and opened it so Iron Bull, who was carrying the table could get in for their nightly Wicked Grace games.  It was Sera's turn to watch out for Cullen or Cassandra, but she was close enough to interject into the conversations.  During the day, Anders was allowed out under Inquisition guard to go to the mage tower to work on finding a way to rescue Hawke.  It was frustrating and slow going, but they had a nebulous plan.

The Inquisitor slipped in at the last moment and sat down. "Deal me in."

"For Maker's sake, how long am I going to have to wait for this judgement?"  Anders asked as the first hand was played.

"Cassandra announced it to all of Thedas.  Josephine is going crazy trying to find accommodations for the trial of the century,"  the Inquisitor said, apologetically.  "It's worth it to let her have her moment.  She needs to feel that we've given this the weight that your crime deserves."

"I already told you she can execute me, as soon as we rescue Hawke."

"You speak about your death casually," Iron Bull said.  "Doesn't it frighten you?"

A new comer at the door laughed a throaty chuckle that had the men's heads turning.  "He should have died ten years ago.  If he was anyone but Hawke's lover, she would have carried out the sentence herself."

"Isabela," Anders said.  "I'm no longer running a clinic.  So if you need any inconvenient diseases healed, you'll have to ask the Inquisition and I've heard they use leeches."

She sat down next to Iron Bull, and put her hand on his thigh.  "Sounds like fun."

Iron Bull cleared his throat.

"So what are you doing here, anyway?  Come to see them cut off my head?"  Anders said, throwing in a bet of four silvers.

"No, that's what Merrill is here for.  I'm here because it's the place to be, sweet thing.  Everyone who is everyone is descending upon Skyhold."

"Great," Anders mumbled.

"I'm not going to execute you," the Inquisitor said.

"That's a mistake.  They'll say you're playing favorites because you're a mage," Blackwall said.  "No offense." He shrugged at Anders.

"None taken."  Anders noticed Blackwall sat across from the Inquisitor and barely even looked at his cards.  The intensity of his gaze made Anders feel uncomfortable because it was exactly how Fenris regarded Hawke when he had thought no one was looking.  What _had_ happened to Fenris? He looked at Cole who met his gaze.

"Fenris turned on Hawke."

"Kid," Varric warned, looking between the two of them. "Don't agitate the crazy."

"I can't believe that," Anders said.

"He wouldn't have killed her," Cole said.

"That's not how I saw it," Varric said.

"That doesn't make sense," Anders said. "She needed him.  He needed her.  I was finally out of his way."  As much as he hated the bastard, he knew Fenris would love and protect her.  It made staying away easier, knowing she was happy with him.  Finding out she had been happy with Sebastian was a torture he was glad to have missed out on for ten years.

"You never listen."  Cole shook his head.  "Fenris hated mages more than he loved her.  You hated templars more that you loved her."

"That's not true," Anders blustered over and almost missed Cole's next words.

"Sebastian loves the Maker, more than he loves her."

That was like a punch in the gut.  Hawke deserved more.

"Poor Hawke," isabella said.  "Perhaps I should through my hat in the ring."  She touched her admiral's hat and winked at Anders.

He glowered at her.

"You love yourself, more than you love her,"  Cole said.

She huffed as everyone laughed.

"Anyone else have feelings for my girl?" Anders said, betting three silver.

Cole thought about it. "There was that one guard, but he didn't love her.  He just wanted to . . ."

"You know what, never mind.  It won't matter. It doesn't matter," Varric interrupted.

". . . say he fucked the Champion of Kirkwall," Cole continued on, oblivious to Blackwall wincing.

"Which guard?" Anders said with an ugly smile.  He didn't need Vengeance for this one.

"Are we going to play cards or bullshit all night?" Iron Bull asked.

They played the next few rounds with a minimum of talking, but it was apparent everyone was lost in their own thoughts.

Anders sighed after being terribly bluffed by Isabela.  He really should know better.  "I appreciate what you've all done for me."  Anders bowed his head.  "I know now that Stroud bears the blame, not the Inquisition."

"Blondie, maybe you should get out of the blame business," Varric dealt a new hand.

"I would if I could."  His gut churned with the force it took him to be patient.  Hawke first.  "I don't want to weaken the Inquisition or the advances the mages have made against the chantry on my behalf.  You can't appear to be giving me special treatment."

"Let them talk," the Inquisitor said.  "I am also an apostate.  Or I was.  I'm willing to uphold Hawke's original judgement of banishment.  Only I'm going to banish Anders to the Fade.  That should be enough to satisfy even the bloodiest of revenge seekers."

Blackwall flinched.  Sera whistled.  Even Iron Bull looked uncomfortable.

"But will it be enough for your Seeker?"  Anders said, folding.  The cards were crap to him tonight.

"Cassandra wouldn't be able to think of a worse punishment."

"And it plays right into our hands," Varric said.  "We'll go to Adamant.  The Inquisitor will open a rift.  We'll toss you in and you find Hawke."

"That is the fuzzy part," the Inquisitor said.

"Don't worry," Varric said.  "I think I've got that part covered."

"Care to share?" Anders said.

"Not yet."

"It will upset you," Cole said.

"Hush, kid.  What did I tell you?"

"Don't agitate him."

Anders cocked an eye at the dwarf, but Varric's face was unreadable.

"I can't believe you're going to jump in the Fade.  It's endless."  Isabela shuddered.  "You'll never find her."

"She shines like a beacon.  Her light is unmatched and there are hundred of demons wanting to feast on it. You'll have to fight through them."  Cole said, betting a gold coin.

Everyone looked at the coin and then tossed in their cards.  Cole never bluffed.

"How is that not agitating him?" Bull asked.

"I'll get to her," Anders said. "But what happens, Inquisitor, when we blast our way out of the Fade?"

"Why can't Hawke blast 'er own way out?" Sera asked, hanging on the bars outside the cell.

"She can't," Varric said.  "She's got the power, but not the knowledge.  Blondie here can find a weak spot between our worlds.  Then with him and her combined, they'll tear through."

"Yeah, along with whatever little beasties are chasing them." Sera snorted. "Like those hundred of demons wanting to feast on her bleedin' light."  She waggled her fingers.

"Stay and guard the rift until we can get troops there," the Inquisitor said.

"I mean what's going to happen when I'm no longer in the Fade that you've banished me to?" Anders folded his arms.

The Inquisitor looked at Varric, who cleared his throat.  

"Then, the outlaw took off for parts unknown with the Champion of Kirkwall in pursuit.  They were never seen again. The End"

Anders grinned.  "I like your confidence in me.  But she might not care to follow."  He sobered.  She probably wouldn't. But maybe he'd be able to steal a kiss before she left.

"Doesn't matter," Varric said.  "I never let the truth get in the way of a good story."


	6. Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty smut smut. Pass on reading this chapter if detailed sex scenes offend you.

Hawke became aware that she was naked in Fenris' arms as he soothed her from the fever dream, Fade mind fuck, whatever it was.

_Do you think I can't see you Hawke?_

"Where are my clothes?" she said, pulling back enough to realize Fenris was only wearing loose pants.  The lyrium tattoos pulsed in a blue rhythm that resembled a heart beat.  Unable to stop herself, she traced them.  He breathed in sharply and caught her fingers.

"They were ruined."  Fenris lowered her back to bed and settled in next to her.

"What am I supposed to wear?  Or am I going to be fighting demons naked?"

"As tempting as that would be to let you think that, you can alter this blanket to whatever armor or clothes you want.  Your magic will fill in the details."  He pulled it up over them.  "You need to rest a bit more.  In the morning, we have to leave this place."

"Why?"

He pulled her against his chest.  "You are being hunted."

"That was just a dream.  Justice is still in Anders."

He stroked her hair.  "The Fade holds many impossible things.  I will not be complacent when they come for you."

Hawke dragged herself up his body until she straddled him.

"Feeling better?"  Fenris cocked an eyebrow at her.

"How do I know I'm not dreaming this?"  She ground herself against the bulge in his pants.

"Feels like a dream to me, Hawke."  He groaned and arched up into her.  "I could look at you like this for hours.  But we should really rest.  We'll need all our strength."

"I'm not closing my eyes again until I know I'm not going to wake up in Kirkwall."  Hawke took his hands and placed them over her breasts.  "If this isn't real, if you're a lust demon…"

"I am no demon," he snarled and flipped them so she was on her back.  He kicked off his pants, and then took her wrists and pinned them over her head.

Hawke spread her legs and he settled against her thigh.  Fenris kissed her with the same savagery she remembered.  Molten heat flooded through her and arousal buzzed against her veins. 

"I don't care if you are," she panted when he left her mouth swollen and warm to trail biting kisses over her neck and shoulder.

He slid off her and to the side.

"Get back here," Hawke ordered and tried to pull his hip over her.

Fenris batted her hand away, and propped himself up on an elbow.  "I'll prove to you this isn't a dream and that I am Fenris."  He traced his finger over her hard nipple, before covering it with his lips.

Hawke's vision swam, but she stayed in the moment.  She was rewarded when he continued to tug and swipe his tongue over her sensitive tip.  He trailed his fingers down her stomach, through the curls at the apex of her thighs and when he pushed into her wetness,  she gasped.

Fenris grazed his teeth over her ultra-sensitive nipple and then blew cool air on it.  Hawke clutched the back of his head, but he pulled free to whisper in her ear while his fingers danced inside her.

"You let all of us have free run of your mansion in Kirkwall," he breathed into her ear.

"What does that have…ah," she cried as he flicked over her slick pearl.

"Listen and feel," Fenris ordered.  "None of your servants looked twice when we were there.  It was easy to get into your bedroom and hide.  I would watch over you while you slept." He explored her intimately as he spoke.

"Why?" she whispered, spreading her legs wider as he plunged two fingers inside her.  She raised her hips to meet each thrust of his fingers.

"I didn't trust the abomination not to lose control and hurt you."

"Then you watched us?"  Hawke's eyes crossed in pleasure.  Instead of enraging her, the idea that he saw them making love turned her on.

"I watched him fuck you.  I saw your head go back and your nails dig into him.  But he was always so careful.  So gentle."  Fenris stuck a third finger in her and increased the pace.

"Fenris."  She clutched his shoulder as his ministrations made her head spin and a deep tremor shook through her.  His words driving her closer to the edge.

"I watched you go crazy.  I knew you wanted more.  I saw you pleasure yourself after he fell asleep.  It was so hard not to go to you and ease that need."

"Not always," she choked out, feeling the need to defend Anders.  He was a Grey Warden, after all.  His stamina almost always exhausted them both into heaps of goo.  But…not always.  Anders was a patient, kind, and devoted lover.  But he held himself back.  Just once she would have liked him to slam her against the wall and take her hard while they were half dressed.  But he couldn't.  He would never risk losing control to passion.  And she hadn't realized she missed that until Fenris pointed it out.

Fenris growled and removed his fingers.  She moaned, missing the driving force between her legs.  But when he went back to her clit, her head hit the pillow hard and electricity jolted through her.  The shaking began at her core and threatened to overwhelm her.

"I hoped he'd lose control so I could kill him," Fenris confessed between his teeth.

It was then she knew this was no dream.  He was no demon.

Hawke reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers.  She screamed into it as she came moments later.  Without giving her a chance to recover, Fenris pushed inside her. It was rough, desperate, and everything she craved.  At this moment, the Fade ceased to exist and they were pounding into each other, racing towards the next orgasm.  Chasing each feeling, Hawke's nails drew blood and magic.

Power spilled out of Fenris and sparked into her.  She funneled it back into him.

"Hawke," he gritted out, arching hard enough his back cracked.

For a moment, he glowed pure blue and she got lost into his fathomless green eyes.  The blue washed over her and she clutched at it, desperate to hold the dissipating mist together.  The weight of him left her and with a final brush across her body, he was gone.

"Fenris," she shrieked, but he had literally slipped through her fingers and vanished.

 


	7. Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hail, Hail, the gang's all here.

They let Anders use Hawke’s room to get ready for his trial.  He pocketed the mabari figurine for good luck.  He didn’t recognize the grim man staring back at him in the mirror.  Anders tried on a smirk and if it wasn’t authentic, it would at least pass.

When he turned, Cole was standing behind him.  Anders' heart leapt into his throat.  He would never get used to the spirit boy.  Cole had his hat in his hand and he wrung it.

“You can’t let Justice out today.”

“I know,” Anders said.  Varric had already gone over this with him. 

“He’s going to want to, but you can’t.”

“I get it.  Look, kid.  I’ve had ten years of practice.  I’m not going to blow my one chance at saving Hawke by letting Justice have his way.”

Cole rolled the brim of his hat in agitation.  “She’s in danger.”

Frustration ate at Anders temper.  “I know. “

“She’s alone.  And afraid.”

“Please,” Anders begged. “Don’t do this to me.  Not now.”

“She’s suffering.”

“Cole, there isn’t much that can break me.  But you are coming very close.”

“I’m sorry.  I thought you should know.”

Anders ran his hand over his hair, not caring that he was pulling strands out of his ponytail.  “Thank you.  If you can tell her that I’m coming for her and I’ll be there as soon as I can.  Tell her.”

Cole bit his lip.  “I’m not sure that will comfort her.”

Anders blew out a sigh.  “Me either.  But it’s all I got.”

Cole nodded.

The door flew open.  “You ready, Blondie?”

“Let’s give them a show, Varric.” His fingers itched for his staff, but that was locked up in the armory.

“I’ll say this; it’s going to make a great story.” 

Anders followed Varric out, and when he looked back into the room, Cole had vanished.

“Everyone who has ever wanted to kill you will be in this room.”  Varric led him down the back stairs.  They would enter the main hall through the side door to avoid the crowds.  Anders could hear them, the voices sounded like the ocean during a storm.

“Must be standing room only,” Anders said.  “Do the templars have their own section?”

“We’ll be on our way to save Hawke by the end of the day.  Keep the end goal in mind.”

“I promise, Varric.  I will not lose my temper and reduce Skyhold to splinters.”

“Blondie, you’d be dead before your first spell got off.”

Varric rapped on the door with a meaty fist.  Two guards opened the door. “Wait here,” they told them.

“You’re going to have an honor guard.  Bull and Blackwall will be flanking us.  They have shields in case anyone fires an arrow.  Dorian will put a barrier spell on us.”

“Do you really think someone will try and kill me before the judgment?” Anders asked.

“I’d have a sniper in the crowd, if you had killed one of mine.”

“Let’s go,” Bull poked his head in.

The crowd was raucous as they led him in.  Anders knew he was hated.  But to be faced with it after all these years . . .  He met a few people’s eyes.  He saw fear, which wasn’t anything new.  Loathing – also old hat.  Anguish, was something he wasn’t used to and he quickly looked away.  Glee was also a bit unnerving.  In the end, he preferred the mild entertaining glances or the utter boredom.

“Silence,” the Inquisitor commanded.  She sat at the head of the hall in a throne made from a dragon’s jaw.  Cullen and Cassandra flanked her.

Cullen glared at him.  Anders winked and blew him a kiss.  He was rewarded when Cullen went white knuckled on the grip of his sword. Cullen was no innocent when it came to executing mages.  Anders wondered if the Inquisitor let herself think about his Templar days, or if she let his pretty face sway her.  Hawke had found him attractive too.  But too much of a zealot to trust.

 _I know you, Cullen.  You can pretend all you want.  But I know you._   Anders put that knowledge into his eyes and Cullen looked away first.

When the crowd died down, the Antivian seneschal—Josephine— spoke Anders’ name and his crimes in a loud, clear voice.  “Is there anyone who wishes to speak?”

“I do,” Cassandra said, her voice was ragged and full of pain.  “This abomination has been allowed to live free for ten years.  Not only should he pay for his crimes, but he should pay for evading justice for so long.”

Justice was amused and would have liked to speak, but Anders had a firm hold on any outbursts.  For once, the spirit seemed to agree with him that getting to Hawke was the priority.

Cullen was next.  “I was there the day he murdered Grand Cleric Elthina and the innocent members of the chantry.”

Anders couldn’t hold in his snort at the word “innocent.”

“We left his punishment to the Champion of Kirkwall.  But instead of executing him, she banished him.  I must uphold the Champion’s judgment.  There is no need for another trial.”

Anders’ eyebrows threatened to climb off his forehead in surprise.  He wasn’t expecting fairness from Cullen.  Maybe he had changed.  Maybe they all had. 

“He was her lover,” Cassandra spat out.  “She was derelict in her duty.”

“Marion Hawke is not on trial here today.”  A grey warden from the sidelines thundered out.  He had on full armor and his face was covered with his helm.  Still, there was something about him that was familiar.

In the shocked silence, the Inquisitor nodded at him. “You will remove your helm in our presence.”

The man did, tossing it on the ground.  Anders felt like someone punched him in the gut. “Maker,” he whispered.

“Oh, Junior.” Varric shook his head.

“I am Warden Hawke.”

The crowd muttered in confusion.

“Her brother, you idiots,” Isabela said, maneuvering her way to stand next to him. “Hello Carver.”

It took ten years, but Isabela’s presence no longer made him blush and stutter.

Carver nodded at her and then went back to addressing the court. “This man is a Grey Warden.” He pointed at Anders. “I demand that you release him to us. He is more use fighting dark spawn that he would be dead.”

“I’m not sure how to take that,” Anders said. He had saved Carver from death a long time ago by giving him to the Grey Wardens, apparently Carver was trying to return the favor.

“The Grey Wardens should remember their place.  If it were not for this Inquisition,” Cassandra spat, “you would be sacrificing recruits and performing blood magic to raise up a demon army.”

“The Wardens are also not on trial.”  This voice was female, strident and vibrating with power.

Anders whipped his head to confirm what he already knew.

The whispers started.  “The Hero of Ferelden,” and “Warden-Commander Surana.”  Anders knew her as Neria.  He had heard she had gone missing. 

Cassandra bowed her head.  “My apologies, Warden-Commander.”

“Please keep in mind,” Surana continued.  “That the man you call the Scourge of Kirkwall, is known to the Wardens as the Hero of Vigil’s Keep.”

“What’s this, Blondie?” Varric asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Ancient history,” Anders replied.

“Well,” Josephine said, clearing her throat.  “Are there any other statements about the prisoner?”

“I have one,” a cultured voice rolled out.

_Of course, you do._

“Steady,” Varric said.

“The Inquisition recognizes Prince Vael of Starkhaven.”

There were a few girlish giggles and sighs. Sebastian was like a fine wine.  Age and command had settled into him like a mantle.  He stood with authority and respectability.

“Really?” Anders glared disgustedly at him.  Couldn’t he at least be balding or have a paunch around the middle?

“I demand his execution for the murdered Kirkwall chantry men and women.”

“Damn it, Choir Boy, you had a deal with Hawke,” Varric shouted him down.

“And she is dead. “

Anders flinched at his callous words.

“My vow died with her.  I would request the honor of beheading the abomination myself.”

“She’s not dead,” Cole said, appearing beside the Prince – much to his guards’ consternation.  “You know that.”

“How could Sebastian know that?” Anders said, frowning in confusion.

“Oh shit,” Varric muttered.

Sebastian clutched a necklace at his chest.  “She is lost.  Forever.  I pray for her death.”

A slow burn crept up Anders.  He felt the quaking and he didn’t want to stop it.  “What’s he holding Varric?”

“Our key to finding Hawke in the Fade.  Now, shut up and hold it together.”

“Um, the Inquisition will take it under advisement,” Josephine said.

“You need to give that to the Inquisitor,” Cole told him.  “It is not yours to keep.”

“It’s all that I have left of her,” Sebastian said, breaking down a bit.  He blinked back tears.

“Varric,” Anders whispered. “Please tell me that’s just a cameo or a locket.”

“Steady,” Varric said again, and held on to his arm.

“She never would have given him her blood,” Anders said.

Sebastian looked up at him. “Do you think we would have allowed an apostate in our country without a phylactery?  Especially someone as powerful as Hawke.”

“You’re wearing her phylactery as jewelry?”  His rage fueled his words.  Justice was almost at the surface. He lunged for the Prince, but Blackwall blocked him even as Bull restrained him.  “I will kill you.  I will rip your heart from your chest.”

“You see,” Cassandra said.  “He is a rabid beast.  He must be put down.”

“Oh give it a rest, Seeker.  If he wanted him dead, he’d be ash right now,”  Varric said. "He just wants to beat the shit out of Sebastian and who can blame him, really?"

“Take that off him, Varric.  I swear I will kill him if you don’t.”  The desperation to rip her phylactery off his fucking neck was overwhelming.  The templars tracked him by using his blood against him. If his was still intact, he’d never had remained hidden so long.  Sebastian held Hawke’s life and death in his hands.  Anders tore free from Bull.

“All right, you asked for it,” Bull said, capturing him in a sleeper hold.

Anders choked for breath.  If he went unconscious, Justice would take over.  “Loosen up,” he croaked, back kicking Bull in his knee.

“You’re not helping your cause,”  Varric said.

“I will take my sister’s phylactery,” Carver strode across the ballroom and held out a mailed hand.  “It is not yours to keep.”  He repeated Cole’s words.

Sebastian removed it and handed it to Carver.  “She was the very best of all of us.  I would have made her a Princess, but she never agreed to marry me.  You will always be a brother to me.”

Carver nodded, and cradled the phylactery reverently.

“I would also ask your permission to be the one kill the abomination,” Sebastian said.

“What was your deal with my sister?” Carver asked.

“That I would not seek retribution for Kirkwall.”

“Then why are you breaking it?”

“She said she would stay in Starkhaven.”

“You kept her prisoner?” Carver asked, his other hand dropping to his sword.

“No, of course not.  She was free to go where ever she wished.”

“Inquisitor?” Carver called up to her.  “Did my sister wish to remain in the Fade?”

“She demanded it,” the Inquisitor said.

Carver held up the precious vial of blood.  It had not darkened.  “My sister is alive.”

The crowd went wild.  When they died down, Carver spoke again. “You will honor your agreement to her or you will face me in a duel of honor.”

“She has no way out of the Fade.”

“You underestimate my sister.  You always have.”  Carver turned his back on Sebastian and returned to Isabela’s side.

Varric clapped loudly.  Anders would have joined him if his blood pressure was back to normal.  As it was, the Qunari was slowly asphyxiating him.  He relaxed, and patted Bull’s forearm again to let him know he had enough.  Bull loosened his grip gradually, letting him go entirely when Anders didn’t make any offensive moves.

“This isn’t over,” Sebastian said to him.

“Not by a long shot, Choir Boy,” Anders snarled.

“I think that’s enough entertainment for one day, don’t you think?” the Inquisitor said.  “It’s your turn, Anders.  Make it brief and try not to threaten death and dismemberment on anyone else.”

Anders cleared his throat and rolled his head on his neck.  He glared down Sebastian and then steadily went around the room until his gaze reached the Inquisitor.

“When I was younger, I had a manifesto that I had written and would have gladly bored you all to tears with it.  The mage situation in Kirkwall was deplorable.  Mages who had survived their Harrowing were being made tranquil for no reason other than the Templars were afraid of what they could potentially do.  A deadly swordsman does not get his hand chopped off because he has the ability to kill lots of people.  Yet mages were treated that way.  When the red lyrium infected Kirkwall’s Knight Commander, no one stopped her war against the mages until she declared the Right of Annulment.”  He nodded at Cullen.  It was only fair to acknowledge that he refused to follow Meredith’s order to slaughter every Kirkwall mage. “The fact that the Right of Annulment exists should hold your outrage.  And if it doesn’t?  Well, consider that I decided to invoke my own Right of Annulment against the Kirkwall Chantry.”

“Heresy!” Cassandra shouted. “She only invoked the Right of Annulment after your actions.”

“She had been plotting it for a lot longer than that.  Red lyrium possessed Meredith and her templars as much as any demon possessed a mage.”

“The Chantry didn’t agree with her.  Grand Cleric Elthina did not support her.”  Cassandra’s voice was hoarse and her fists were clenched.

“Neither did she oppose her,” Anders said.  “Her silence was as good as consent.”

“You hold a spirit of the Fade inside you,” Cassandra accused.  It was obvious by the look on her face, that she didn’t like how his trial was going.

“And you hold one in this very court.”  Anders gestured to Cole.  “Let me make your arguments for you, Seeker.  I am an apostate mage.  So is your Inquisitor.  So is the Hero of Ferelden.”  He’d pay for that later, but he was on a roll.  “I killed innocent people.  So did the Kirkwall Templars.  I passed judgment on innocent men and women.  So did the Kirkwall Chantry.  I found them guilty and I executed them.  I would do it again to save the mages.”

“You started the mage rebellion.”  Cassandra cried.

“You caused it,” Anders roared.  It had the hint of Justice in it, but not enough that he couldn’t reel it back in before anyone noticed.  Cassandra blinked and looked away.  He hit a nerve and he hadn’t even been trying.

The great hall of the Inquisition was silent.

“I will pass judgment on you, now,”  the Inquisitor said.

Anders bowed his head.

“For your crimes against humanity.  I banish you…”  As the crowd started to react, she amplified her voice using magic.  “To the Fade.”

Silence was complete again.  Until a soft Orlesian voice spoke up, “I have an additional judgment.”

Josephine rushed to say, “The Inquisition recognizes Divine Victoria.”

“Red, what are you doing?” Varric asked.

Leliana’s eyes twinkled as she walked up to them.  “The Kirkwall chantry does not receive justice if Anders is banished to the Fade.”

“Finally,” Cassandra groaned. 

“Anders, your Grey Wardens speak highly of you as a talented mage and a stalwart companion.  As a member of Hawke’s group, you have also proven yourself in battle.  And in a courtroom,” she twirled around to encompass the room, “you play the game like an Orlesian noble.”

“There’s no need for insults,” Anders said.  “What does the chantry want of me?”

“Anders you are banished to the Fade, I cannot stop that.  The Inquisition has ruled.  However, you will go into the Fade as the Knight Commander of the Kirkwall Templars.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Anders sputtered.

Even Varric was trying to form words and failing.

“You want to make me a templar?”  Anders locked gazes with Cassandra and for once in the entire day they were completely in agreement.

“You must be joking,” Cassandra said.

“It’s a new chantry.  I need mages in high positions.” Leliana’s dulcet tones were calm and convincing.  She turned to Anders and he heard steel under the sweetness.  “You need to give back what you have taken from Kirkwall.”

Cullen’s hand was over the lower part of his face, but his eyes were huge.

“Divine Victoria, I must protest,” Sebastian said.

“Must you?” And the ice in her voice, had him raising his arms in surrender.

“The Wardens relinquish their request on the prisoner,” Surana said.

_Oh, traitor.  That’s the whole reason he joined the fucking Grey Wardens was to escape the Maker damned chantry.  Now they wanted him to rebuild Kirkwall’s?_

Varric’s shoulders started to shake and Anders wanted to slug him.

“What Grand Cleric in their right mind, would want me as their Knight-Commander?”

“One I have been unable to reach. However, if you should see her first, here is my decree announcing her new position in the Kirkwall chantry.”

“Andraste’s knicker weasels,” Anders said, staring dumbly at the name of Kirkwall’s new Grand Cleric.

Varric plucked the scroll out of his hands and read it. “Well, I’ll be a nug’s uncle.”


	8. Overheard at Skyhold That Night

Bed creaking and loud thumps against the wall.

"Oh Carver. Carver! Carver."

***

"So, do you think that when it's time to pick a new Divine," Merril said. "We might have a Divine Kestrel?"

"Anything's possible, Daisy." Varric said. "I couldn't write this shit, though. No one would ever believe me."

***

"I don't quite think you understand the depth of my hatred for Templars," Anders said, his arms stretched out in a T, while the chantry tailor took his measurements.

Leliana sat drinking a glass of wine and composing a message to her Ravens. "There isn't any Circle of Magi anymore. You are using your power for good. You are using it to spread the word of Andraste."

"That's another thing. Your new Grand Cleric and I aren't the most pious of the flock, if you catch my drift. Ow." Anders shifted and glared down at the tailor. "I know you stuck me on purpose."

"A thousand apologies, Knight Commander."

"Well, that's going to take some getting used to." Anders boggled down at the tailor. "You're also over estimating my influence on Hawke," he addressed Leliana again. "There's a very good chance, she'll attack me on sight."

"I doubt that," Leliana said. "If she didn't have feelings for you, she wouldn't have stayed at Starkhaven."

"I wouldn't have wanted her to do that." Anders gritted his teeth. The image of her and Sebastian was too perfect not to sting. If anyone deserved to be a Princess, it was Hawke.

"She wanted to keep you safe. It's what she does. Which is why she'll be the perfect Grand Cleric."

"I can't believe the Divines aren't rolling over in their graves over this."

"Think of it this way. You are chantry sanctioned to fight evil and protect the weak and the innocent. If Hawke balks, tell her that. Tell her she can make a difference."

Anders stared at her. "You are truly the most frightening person I have ever met."

  
***

  
"I've been worried about you."

"I can take care of myself Alistair."

"It doesn't stop me from wishing you were out of harm's way."

Neria stepped away from his arm. "Anora looks lovely."

"You're never going to forgive me for marrying her, are you?"

"No, I'll never forgive you for not marrying me because I am an elf."

Alistair blew out a sigh.

She reached out and held his hand to take the sting out of her words.

"Where's Zevran?" he asked.

"You didn't see him in the crowd?"

"He wouldn't be much of an assassin if I could."

"He's in the tavern." Neria leaned out over the battlements.

"Does he make you happy?'  Alistair mirrored her action.

"Does Anora make you happy?"

"Not particularly.  I told you it was a marriage of convenience."

"Zevran and I are not exclusive.  But we do have fantastic sex."

"I'm so glad," Alistair said, sourly.  "Like that won't haunt me for days now."

"I could give you another memory."  She led him towards her room.

"If it matters.  I made the wrong choice."

"It matters."  Neria kissed him.

"Have you met your son?" She asked when they were behind closed doors.

"Please don't call him that. Yes. I met him. He seems normal. Maker knows how that happened."

"I think he's mellowed Morrigan."

"Well, she didn't call me a twat."

  
***

  
More bed creaking. Wood slamming against the wall.

"Yes! Yes! Car-ver!"

***

  
"Don't you think you've had enough to drink, Seeker?"

"I'm going to keep drinking until the world makes sense again."

"I'll fetch another bottle."

***

  
"Cullen? Are you all right?"

"Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been in the process of taking your boots off for the last half hour."

"I'm sorry, love. I just can't help wondering if Leliana has made a terrible mistake."

"She knows what she's doing. Unlike you. Here let me help you with that."

"I can damn well take off my own armor—Oh. Oh, well that's nice."

  
***

  
"You handled the crowd like a magister, Josie."

"Thanks Krem. I was so nervous."

They cuddled by the fire.

"Now, I've just got to send them on their way to Adamant tomorrow."

"The Chief said they were going to teleport to the closest Inquisition base."

"Yes, but I have to make sure they've got the right supplies, the correct documentation. While they're there the Inquisitor should visit…"

Krem cut her off with a soft kiss.

  
***

  
Gasping, heavy breathing.

"Carver? Again? So soon?"

"Grey Warden, Isabela. Stamina."

"Oh Maker."

  
***

  
"Do you think, he can get them out of the Fade without ripping a hole into this world?" Bull asked, afterwards. They were sweaty and breathing heavily, but laid in each other's arms.

"No."

"No, as in he won't be able to leave the Fade or no, he'll release a fuck load of demons when he does it."

"The demons, most definitely." Dorian winced as the soreness crept into his body. He eased out of bed and looked around for his clothes.

"Where are you going?" Bull asked.

"I think there's a tome of magic in the library that might help them."

"Come back to bed."

Dorian considered it. "I suppose I could get it in the morning."

"Come get your beauty rest."

Dorian snorted. "Like I need it."

  
***

  
Anders wasn't sleeping when the knock on his door came. "Come in."

He thought it would be Varric, or maybe Dorian.

"You." Anders uncoiled from the bed and stalked towards the man.

"I wanted to congratulate you on your appointment. Now, that you're a member of the chantry, I hope we can put our differences aside and work towards the common good."

"Fuck me, but you sound sincere." Anders crossed his arms over his chest.

Sebastian sighed. "I thought you were lost. But now Andraste has seen that you are found. How could I go against the Maker's wishes? Surely, you would have been struck dead by now should she wish it."

"You really are a prick, you know that? So polite. So proper. Have you ever even considered acting inappropriately?"

Sebastian's fist flew and decked Anders in a powerful right cross to his jaw. "That's for Elthina."

Anders staggered back in disbelief, only to be bent over from the force of Sebastian's fist in his gut.

"And that's for Hawke," Sebastian whispered.

He walked a retching Anders over to the bed and gently tucked him in. "Good night, brother. May the Maker watch over you on your journeys."

***

  
"She makes armor out of the bedspread when the first wave of demons attack."

"Shut it." Sera took a big gulp of ale. "It's bad enough you and I are the only ones not fucking our brains out tonight. 'Cept maybe Blackwall. But he's so used to wankin' it in the stables, it's a normal night for him. I don't have to listen to your creepy Fade shite."

"He is a spirit of the Fade. But she is still alive. She instinctively knew how to feed in the Fade. She needed food. She didn't mean to convert sex to magic to energy. He nourished her. Now, it will take time for him to gather energy and return. She is alone. And frightened."

"So who could use a little tongue action tonight? Harding? Maker, I'd like to trace those freckles. See if they're all over. Right?" Sera elbowed Cole. "Cassandra might be drunk enough, but that'd be taking advantage. Andraste's tits, I'm so horny I could rub one out here."

"After the second wave of demons, she left the house and went off on her own. She doesn't know that with each kill, her power grows. She shapes the Fade. She becomes incandescent. Soon she will be so lost in her version of the Fade. Reality will cease and she will be gone forever."

"Even the bard is looking good tonight. Morrigan and Leliana scare the shit out of me. But it'd be worth it yanno? You need a few more ales before trying to eat those peaches. Am I right?"

"He's coming for you Hawke. He'll be there soon. Don't let him catch you."


	9. Hawke

It had been three days since Hawke had last seen Fenris.  He usually came back after three days.  The first time he disappeared during sex, she had lost it.  She went on a killing spree that took her far away from his cabin in the Fade.  Fenris found her wandering a road, talking to herself.  She almost killed him, but then she realized she preferred his company – even if it was an illusion.

It took a while, but he convinced her that he hadn’t lied to her.  He just hadn’t realized she could drain his essence during sex.

“So I’m a vampire now?  Or a succubus?”  Hawke had exclaimed, fighting the need to vomit at the thought.

“No, you’re human,” Fenris said.  “In a place where no food or water exists.  Magic sustains you.  You eat magic.”

“How do I even do that?”

“Like this,” he kissed her.

She resisted at first, but his mouth was too much of a temptation.  When she was clinging to him, he slowly blew a breath over her face.  She inhaled and felt stronger.  “So I’ve weakened you?”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.  “Not enough to matter.”

“When I take too much of you, what happens?”

“I cannot be destroyed by you, Hawke.  I give myself to you willingly.  I come back once I regain my strength.”

“I won’t ever drain you again,” she said.

“You will,” he said. And he was right.  After a particularly gruesome battle against pride demons, he forced her into taking all of him to heal her wounds.  And yet again when they had been ambushed by hurlocks.

That was three days ago.  He said he could find her by following her light.  She was tired of moving all the time.  Hawke wanted a home base to defend. 

“Maker, it’s you.”

She whirled to see . . . Anders standing behind her.  He was staring at her like he was a dying man in a desert and she was an oasis.  It had been a long time since she saw that look in his eyes.  For a moment, they were back in his clinic.  Then she realized he wasn’t wearing mage robes.   Anders was wearing the robe of Kirkwall’s Knight Commander.  Hawke blinked.  Nope.  Still wearing a chantry uniform.  Then, she burst out laughing.

“It’s fantastic to see you too, Sweetheart.  I’ve dreamed about this moment for ten years.  I figured you’d either run into my arms or smite me dead with your staff.  Laughter?  No, that didn’t even come up.” He scowled at her, crossing his arms in front of him.  It was a typical Anders pout.

“I’ve been expecting a lust demon wearing your face,” Hawke said, wiping tears that were only partially in amusement.  “But I can’t for the life of me figure out why you’re wearing a chantry uniform.”

“Really? A lust demon?”  Anders grinned.  “We can play Free Mage corrupting the new Templar if you want.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.  Then winced and closed his eyes.

“Are you all right?”  Maker, listen to her.  She was asking a lust demon if he was all right.

“F-fine,” he ground out.  “I’m having some difficulties with Justice.”

Hawke took a step back, remembering her Fade dream.  Her staff was ready to send a stream of fire at him.

Anders held up his hands.  “Don’t shoot. I’ve come to take you home.  Let’s find a weakened veil and blast through it.  I’ll explain it all once we have our feet back in Thedas.”

She took another step back.  “Fuck off, weird Fade thing.”

“You say the sweetest things.  I’m real.  It’s me.”  Anders rubbed his chest and winced. Then he reached into his pocket and tossed her something.

She caught it on reflex.

“Besides, if the Fade was going to show you me based on your memories, how would it know what I look like ten years later?”  He bent over, his hands on his knees.  He was breathing hard and pain etched his features.

Opening up her hand, Hawke saw the mabari figurine she left behind at Skyhold. 

“How did you get this?”

“Varric took me to Skyhold.  It’s a long story.  That was in your room.  Along with your guard uniform from Starkhaven.”  Anders said through his teeth.

Staring at him in shock, Hawke saw what he meant.  He was angry with her for Starkhaven.  A demon wouldn’t have cared.  He had more lines around his eyes and lips.  Was that a scar on his chin?  His hair was longer, darker.  The Fade would have shown her the younger version.  Damn, he could still rivet her with his gaze.  Older, yes.  Wiser?  Not by a long shot.  Or he wouldn’t have entered the Fade to rescue her.

She took another step back, slipping the beloved figure into her pocket.  Ten years.  This had to be a trick.  Anders had forgotten her.  He hadn’t once tried to get in touch with her.  Either that or he hated her.  Hated her for not being a crusader for mage’s rights.

Anders pulled out a scroll from his backpack and whipped it at her.  Hawke let that one fall at her feet.

“Congratulations.  The new Divine, Victoria, has named you Grand Cleric of Kirkwall and me your Knight Commander.  Which should tell you that Leliana and Fate are bitches with a nasty sense of humor.”

Hawke took another step back.  Maker, even her fucked up head couldn’t come up with this.  “Anders?”

“Hello, Sweetheart.”  He smiled that old roguish grin and her heart stopped.  His smile faded and he lifted his chin, as if steadying himself for a blow.

“You came for me,” she whispered.

He looked at her like she was crazy. “Of course I came. I wouldn’t have left you in the Fade,” Anders said.  “I damned well wasn’t going to allow you to be stuck here.  Not when I can get you out.”

“Why?” she said.

“Why?” he asked incredulously.  Then pain wracked his face and he dropped to his knees.

“Anders,” she cried out.

“Justice,” he said. “I can’t.  It hurts.  I . . .”

She was going to close the distance when the ghostly suit of armor wrenched free.  Anders screamed in agony, a sound that was worse than nails on a chalkboard to her.  He slumped over and convulsed.

“What did you do to him?” She snarled at Justice, sending the fire burst into him.

The spirit batted it away as if it were a bothersome fly. “The separation after so long of a time is painful.  Now, I believe it’s time for us to get better acquainted.”

“No,” Anders moaned. “Don’t you dare.”

“She offered,” Justice said.  “I would have never left you otherwise.  You have been a good host.  But Hawke . . . Hawke, you have been a thorn in my side since the first time he laid eyes on you.  Any other woman, he fucked and forgot.  But you?  What is so damned special about you?”

Hawke retreated, leading the spirit away from Anders.  Anders was attempting to get to his feet, but had resorted to dry heaving on the bushes.

“I rescind my offer,” she snarled.

“What?” Anders said, weakly.  “What did you do?”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Justice advanced on her.  “Neither will your weak spells.”

The spirit was absorbing every shot from her staff.

“This will only hurt at first.  Then we can come to an arrangement.”

“Never,” Anders said, crawling towards them. “I won’t let you touch her.”

Justice spared him a look.  “Your magic will return.  But you’ll never be as powerful as you were with me.” He turned back to Hawke.  “Your magic, on the other hand, combined with me will level cities.”

“You’re a twisted version of what you once were.”  Hawke should run.  But she couldn’t leave Anders alone and unprotected, so she circled back.

Anders was guzzling lyrium.  She saw a flash of light in the distance.  And a smile broke out on her face.  “Now, you’re in trouble,” she said.

“I do not fear you or your friends,” Justice said, reaching for her.

“Your mistake.” She rolled as the javelin pierced through his chest and flew out the other side.

Mist leaked from him and he turned to see Fenris hurling another one.  Hawke swept Justice's legs with her staff when he dodged and then slammed down where his head should have been.  But he rolled away.  She sent a fireball roaring into him and hurried over to Anders. 

“Get up.” She pulled on his arm.  “Get away from him.”

Justice lunged for them.

Fenris leaped between them with his great sword.

“Took you long enough,” Hawke said.

“We’ve got bigger worries than Justice.  Pick him up and run that way.”  He arched his head to the left.

“I’m not leaving you.”

Justice roared and met Fenris’s strikes with a ghostly sword and shield.  “Do it,” Fenris snarled at her.

“Leave me,” Anders said.  “I can barely move.”

“Not going to happen.”  Putting her staff away, she hauled Anders up and over her shoulder.  Staggering under his weight, she said, “What the hell have you been eating for the last ten years?”

“Right now, it’s my pride,” Anders said.  “This wasn’t how I planned the rescue going.”

“Welcome to my world,” she grunted and forced herself down the way Fenris indicated.

“Welcome back, you mean.”

She patted him on the ass. “You look good in a dress.”

“Shut up, Hawke.”


	10. Anders

“You can put me down, now,” Anders said.  Just once, couldn’t he be the hero instead of her?  Just once couldn’t he save the day?  “I can walk.”  He wasn’t too sure about that part, but he was damn sure he was sick of being carried.

“Thank the Maker. You’re heavy.”  Hawke dipped her shoulder and he slid off, praying that his knees didn’t buckle.  His head was screaming in agony and it felt like half of him was missing and in that hole raw nerve endings bit and hissed at him.

Hawke, on the other hand, was just as beautiful and perfect as the last moment he saw her.  Only instead of being angry and devastated, she just looked winded and confused.  Neither was the effect he wanted to have on her.  If only he didn’t feel scattered to the five winds, he’d take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.  But he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t collapse and retch again so he kept his distance.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded.  “I’m fine.  What about you?”

“Why did Justice leave me for you?”

She looked back, but there wasn’t anyone following them.  “It’s a long story.  Basically, the Fade created an alternative Kirkwall.  Or maybe I did.  I saw you there.  But you were younger.  It was when we first met.  Except this time I was alone and drunk.”

“Please tell me I had the good sense to seduce you.”

“You threatened me with your staff for interfering with your peaceful haven.”

“So I was still an ass.  Great.”

“I saw Justice in you and I got mad.  I started talking shit and throwing around magic.  Did I mention I was drunk?”

“I can’t believe I would have fought you.”

“You didn’t,” Hawke gave him a small smile.  “Justice did.  He left you and came into me.  But it was only a dream. Or at least, I thought it was.  I had been poisoned by a spider demon and Fenris was watching over me as I recovered.”

“That’s not Fenris,” Anders said.

“It is.”

“A Fenris shaped lust demon?” Anders asked.

Hawke craned her neck.  “No.  We should keep moving.  He’ll catch up to us when he’s finished with Justice.”

“What if Justice defeats him?”

“Never happen,” she said, walking ahead of him.

“Where are we going?” 

“I’m not sure,” she said sheepishly. 

Anders grunted.  “Then how do you know we’re not moving into a trap?”

“I trust Fenris.”

“If he’s not a lust demon, then what is he?”

Hawke looked over at him, critically.  Anders stopped limping the best he could and puffed out his chest.  He might not be Sebastian of Starkhaven, but he’d be damned if Hawke would find him lacking.  He wished Leilana hadn’t insisted on the stupid chantry garb.

“He’s Fenris,” she said.

“I thought Fenris was dead.  Cole told me.”

She nodded.  “He is.”

“Hawke, I have a massive headache.  Can you make things easier for me?  Why is he with you if he betrayed you?”

“I didn’t betray her, abomination.”  Fenris was on the path in front of them.

“Technically, I’m not an abomination anymore.”  Anders used the excuse to stop and lean on his staff while he caught his breath.  “How did you get in front of us anyway?”

“I am a spirit of the Fade,” he said.  “I can move faster than you humans.”

“So you’re the abomination, now?” Anders smirked.

“Gentlemen,” Hawke warned.

“Justice has dissipated, but he will be back.”

“You didn’t kill him?” Anders asked.

“No,” Fenris said, sparing him a look.  “Go find a weak spot in the Fade.”  He waved his hand in the direction they were going.  “You need to get out of here.”  Fenris gripped Hawke’s arms.

Anders closed his eyes in defeat.  Of course, there would be someone between them.  If it wasn’t Justice, it was Fenris.  Still, he straightened his shoulders, he had a job to do.  He switched to second sight and scanned the horizon.  He didn’t get out of earshot, however.

“What’s coming after us?”  Hawke asked.

“Several packs of demons have joined forces to take you down.”

“If we win, will they leave us alone?”

“Never,” he said.  “And there’s a second legion prepared to step in once they’ve been defeated.”

Anders saw Hawke absorb the news.  She bit her lip in indecision.  He was transfixed on that small gesture.  Her white teeth.  Her red lips.  Anders turned away in disgust. _Find a way out._

“Can you come with us?”  she asked Fenris.

Pain worse than Justice being torn from him stabbed him in the heart with her plaintive question.

“I would be as the mage said.  An abomination.”

Anders shook his head.  He was still “the mage.”

“I don’t mind,” Hawke said.  “Please.”

“I don’t even know if I can leave,” he said.

“I’m not leaving you behind in the Fade.”

The tenderness in her voice was Anders undoing.  Tears flowed freely down his cheeks.  He was grateful that his back was to them.   He had stupidly convinced himself that this would be their second chance.  Instead it was Fenris’ and Hawke’s second chance.  The hollow ache of Justice burned and Anders knew he was as good as demon bait the longer he stayed in the Fade.  Another spirit would sense his vulnerability and take him over.  But would that be so bad?

He looked back at Fenris and Hawke.  They held hands and their foreheads touched.  They were speaking quietly now and he couldn’t hear them.  He didn’t want to hear the whispered words of love.

_Maker damn it._

He had allowed himself to hope.  And while the sight of Marian Hawke smiling and breathing eased a tightness in him that he hadn’t known was there, he had expected her to be his again.  How would he see her and Fenris every day and keep his sanity?

The same way that Fenris had.

The same way that Blackwall does with the Inquisitor.

The walls of the Fade were too strong here.  He pushed forward, glad to get some strength back in his legs and some distance from the happy couple.  Maybe he would catch a break and ghost Fenris wouldn’t be able to follow them out of the Fade.  Anders was concentrating on finding a weakness between the worlds that he didn’t see the demon until he was right next to her.

Of course, she looked like Hawke.  Of course, she was naked.  Of course, she wound her arms around him.

“Anders,” she sighed and he heard the singsong voice of the demon through Hawke’s tone.  “I knew you would come for me.  You saved me.  You’re my hero.  I’ll do anything.  Anything to show my gratitude.”

He allowed the first kiss because he wanted to feel her lips again.  But the demon didn’t even come close.

“I really hate amateurs,” he said, and blew her back with a fire blast.

The demon snarled and attacked with her claws.  He parried with the staff, still weakened.  Justice was no longer able to help.  Vengeance, the only part of Justice that was left, was just Anders himself.  But he was powerful enough to leave her a smoking pile of bones by the time Fenris and Hawke showed up.

“What was that?” Hawke asked.

Fenris met his gaze with a knowing look. 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”  He said back to Fenris, answering both Hawke’s question and the challenge in the elf’s eyes.  “The walls are too strong here.  We need to move on.”


	11. Hawke

Well, Anders in front of her and Fenris in back, Hawke had dreams like that from time to time.  Of course in the dreams, Fenris wasn’t scanning for demons and Anders wasn’t looking for a weak part of the Fade to blast out of.  If they weren’t in the Fade, it might have seemed like old times.  Before things got ugly.  Or maybe how things could have been, if they had ejected Justice earlier.  All that was missing was Varric's smart ass commentary on the sexual tension or Isabella adding to it. Or poor Merrill being confused by it.  Hawke sighed.  She needed to move on with her life and stop thinking about what was or what could have been. She was a Prince's mistress and a mercenary for hire.  Although something told her that was about to change.

She examined Anders when he stopped to study the Fade.  He looked tired.  She worried that he wouldn’t have enough power to keep going.  He was drinking too much lyrium.  It wasn't like it was a renewable resource in here. Still, she didn't have the heart to tell him to slow down.  Not after Justice weakened him. Anders closed his eyes and held out his staff in front of him.  Hawke tried to see what he did, but no matter how many times he tried to teach her she didn’t have the concentration.  After a moment, he opened his eyes and shook his head. 

Their gazes caught and for a moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of them.  There had been no closure.  One minute they were lovers.  The next, the chantry exploded and she threw him out of her life.  And he went. 

Anders winked at her before turning back down the path.

She still loved him. 

Shock nearly tripped her.

Hawke hoped they survived this.  She wanted to sit down in a tavern and talk to him until they were too drunk to see and then she wanted to wake up in bed next to him.  Hawke sent a guilty look Fenris’ way, but mind reading wasn’t one of the elf’s skills, thank goodness.  Of course, she wouldn’t mind a good drunk with Fenris and wind up in his bed either.  Maybe they could work out a schedule, every other week?  Maybe both at the same time.

That thought had her grinning like a loon.  The chances of that so slim, she'd have a better chance of beating  Varric at an archery contest.

She was so fucked.

They continued down the path and the chantry robe Anders wore made her lips twitch.

Anders was a Templar.

He glared over his shoulder at her when she started to snicker.  “I’ve got your hat and robe in my backpack so laugh it up, Grand Cleric.”

“Explain to me, how two apostates are now the highest ranking members of the Kirkwall chantry,” she said.  If Anders wasn't having her on, she would have to leave Starkhaven and go back to Kirkwall.  She had to admit it appealed to her.  However, Grand Cleric, seemed too much like a practical joke.

Anders sighed.  “Leliana abolished the circles and has allowed Elves and Quanari in.”

“How’s that going for her?”  Hawke asked.

“Why do you think she’s putting us in charge?”  Anders snorted.  “She’s going to hold these chantries by force. She’s expecting a coup from factions that still support the old chantry line of 'If your mages are being too uppity, make them tranquil.'”

Fenris grunted.

Hawke swatted him.  When Anders put it like that, it did make sense.  No one in Kirkwall would rise up against her, especially with Anders at her side.  And making him a Templar?  It was poetic justice that could also help heal the rough spots that still haunted him about the chantry.  He destroyed it.  Now, he had to be part of fixing it.

“The Maker and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye,” Hawke said delicately, wondering if Anders had turned his zealotry to the chantry.

“I’ve killed more Templars than spiders, even before I blew up the chantry,” Anders pointed out.

“A wise person wouldn’t remind others of your evil deeds,” Fenris said.

“Why?” Anders countered.  “Would you have forgotten them if I didn’t?”

“Never,” Fenris said.

“Me neither,” Anders said.

“What if I don’t want to be Grand Cleric?" Hawke said, deliberately breaking their line of sight with each other.  "And I can’t imagine you’re eager to lead a new group of Templars.”

“You, at least, have a choice.  It’s either Knight Commander or death for me.  If putting on a dress and limiting my exclamations of 'Andraste’s tits' keeps me breathing for awhile longer, I’ll get into this hand basket.”

“So I can tell the Divine no?”  That didn’t sit well with Hawke.  Especially since she liked Leliana, and Justinia had gone out of her way to help her and the Inquisitor while they were in the Fade.

“You can,” Anders said.  “But she told me something interesting.  She basically said she trusted you enough to have carte blanche in policy making in Kirkwall.”

“That’s a lot of power, Hawke,” Fenris said.

“Absolute power comes with absolute headaches.” Still, she’d be working with Aveline and Varric again.  She’d be home.  And she would see Anders every day.  Anders who would be a free man and able to use his skills as a healer.  She could set him up with a state-of-the-art clinic, if that was what he still wanted.  She’d have an army of personally selected and trained Templars.  Hawke blew out a breath.  Was this how the Inquisitor felt?  “I don’t really do rules and regulations,” she said.

Anders shrugged.  “You’re the one making the rules and regulations.”

“And that doesn’t scare anyone?” Hawke exclaimed.

“Take an advisor.  Varric has a good head on his shoulders.”

“That doesn’t scare you?”  Fenris asked.

“Nothing scares me,” Anders said.  “Not anymore.”

Fenris made a disgusted sound.

“Spiders,” Hawke said.  “I’m still afraid of them.”

“No,” Fenris said.  “You hate spiders.  You’re not afraid of them.”

“She hates them because she’s afraid of them.  Same reason why some people hate mages,” Anders said.

Hawke gave him the squinty eyes, wondering if that was a shot at Fenris.  Probably.  But it was subtle enough that she let it pass.

They walked for a few more hours, fighting off small bands of demons with ease.  After the last attack was leveled to a flaming mass, Fenris let out an aggravated sigh.  "Haven't you found a weak spot in the Fade, yet?"

"Don't you think I would have mentioned it if I had?" Anders spat back.

"Boys," Hawke said, warningly.  Their endless sniping at each other was making her crazy.

"I'm just wondering if he's powerful enough now that the demon has left him." Fenris circled around Hawke.

"You'll see the impact of my power.  And Justice was a spirit of the Fade.  Just like you," Anders said, stepping away from Hawke as well.  "Or are you a demon now?"

"Knock it off, you two."  Hawke got between them as they closed in on each other.  "This isn't helping."

"I am no demon," Fenris snarled.  "I am a spirit too strong to pass on."

"Just as long as you're not looking to possess Hawke, we'll get along."

Fenris smirked.  "There are levels of possession."

"That's it," Anders said and whirled with his staff in attack position.

Fenris stretched his great sword out in battle preparation.

"I didn't want to do this," Hawke said, and grabbed Fenris by the shirt and pulled him in for a brutal kiss.

Anders sputtered until she reached over and did the same to him, one hand still tangled in Fenris' shirt.

Fenris glared as Anders' cupped her face.  Hawke dragged Fenris closer.

"I don't know what you hope to …"  Fenris cut off as Hawke slid her hand down to his belt.

Anders took a deep breath when she did the same to him.

"Now that I have your attention, we need to have an agreement."

"Kiss me again with your hand on my cock and I'll agree to whatever you want," Anders said, not a trace of amusement in his voice.

She kissed him again and skimmed her hand over the hard bulge under his robe.  Hawke gasped into his mouth when Fenris bit her hard on the neck.  Fenris' fingers bruised her hip, in direct contrast to Anders' gentle hand on her waist.

Anders' mouth was greedy and his lips hot as their tongues slid over each other. He moaned and familiar desire flooded her.  Fenris pulled her hair to break the kiss.

"Now, is not the time for this.  I will not share you with that mage," he growled.

"I'm not jumping for joy over having you in the picture either," Anders said.  "But if that's the only way to be able to kiss her again, I'll gladly do whatever she wants."

"Pathetic," Fenris snapped.

Hawke turned her head and stroked his white hair off his forehead. "I just want the two of you to stop fighting. And for the moment you did.  If you want to keep fighting, I'll interrupt you the same way."

"Not the deterrent you think it is, Sweetheart," Anders said, leaning in to press a feather soft kiss at her nape.

She shuddered in pleasure.  Fenris yanked her to him and kissed her.  Anders closed in as well and she was pressed tightly against each of them.  She was beginning to like the Fade.  Now, if they were only in her room in Kirkwall instead of traipsing through the Fade with demons and spirits after them it would be perfect.

"Hawke, what are you doing?" Fenris said.

"I thought that was obvious," she purred, stroking him through his leather pants.  Her eyes were closed in bliss and her knees felt weak.  The two strong men were straining against her keeping her up.

"Don't do this," Fenris said, as the world tilted and reshaped. "You'll bring attention to us."

"I don't mind an audience," Anders murmured, reclaiming her lips.

They fell backwards onto her bed and Fenris bolted up, breaking her out of her trance. 

"Come back," she murmured.  Fenris checked himself and for a moment she thought he would, especially when Anders rolled her beneath him.

"What the hell just happened?" Anders asked, using his knee to spread her legs.

Hawke arched into him, but soon realized they were back in her room in her mansion in Kirkwall.  "Did you do it?"  She wrapped her leg around his, liking the fierce need she saw in his eyes.

"Sweetheart, I barely got started," he said, kissing her.

"No, did you part the veils and bring us here?" Hawke rolled him over on his back so she was on top.  She smiled down at him.  Anders held up his hands in surrender.  She liked the feel of his hardness between her legs.  She glanced over at Fenris who was watching them with hot, angry eyes.  But the anger held a hint of passion.

Hawke crooked her finger at him, would have vanished all their clothes, but Fenris' next words shook her out of the web of lust that had come over her.

"No, we're in the Fade and you used your power to shape it into whatever you desired."  Fenris paced the room, with his sword swinging.

"Did that buy us some time?"  Hawke asked, staring around the room trying to find a clue that this wasn't her home.

"It did.  But you've also attracted a lot of attention.  We need to leave."  Fenris opened the bedroom door and strode out.

"You take all the fun out of things," Anders said.  He grabbed Hawke by the arm when she made to get up. "This isn't over between us."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said, warmed by his quick grin.

The mansion wasn't as complete as it was in her poison dream.  Instead of cobblestone paths, there was a ragged cliff's edge that led down to a deep ravine and black swirling water.

"Funny, I don't remember Hightown having that running through the middle of it," Anders said.

A roar caught their attention and a black dragon snaked up out of the ravine.

"Maker's breath, Hawke, you've got some imagination," Anders said.

"Fade dragon," Fenris spat.  "Come on.  Before it sees us and traps us inside the mansion."

They fled as quickly as the rocky terrain allowed.

"I think I see a weakening of the walls between our worlds up ahead," Anders said.

"It's about damn time," Fenris grunted.

"Watch out," Hawke shouted and shouldered Fenris out of the way of a spray of acid.  It narrowly missed her as she rolled.

Anders sent a bolt of electricity over their heads and into the beast's eyes.

It roared and sent another blast of acid that nearly melted Hawke's and Anders' barrier.

"Shit," Anders dodged a puddle.

"Come closer, beast," Fenris shouted waving his sword.

"Or go away peacefully," Hawke countered, dodging again as it rained acid in a targeted stream at her.

The Fade dragon struck at the ledge that they stood on.  Hawke slipped as it began to crumble.  She sent off a blast of fire from her staff before the rocks under her feet gave way and she tumbled into the black water below.  Fenris leapt on the back of the dragon.  Anders jumped into the water after Hawke.


	12. Anders

"Grab my staff," Anders said, bracing himself on a rock while she stretched to reach it.

Hawke was kicking hard to keep her head above water. "I bet you . . ." Her head went under. He was about to jump in after her when she popped back up again. "Say that to . . ." A wave from the Fade Dragon's struggles crashed into her and she tumbled farther down the river. "Say that to all the girls," Hawke panted, catching herself on a rock by her fingertips.

Anders ran downstream, wishing he was wearing breeches instead of the stupid Templar robe. "Be gentle with it," he said, offering the staff to her once more. "It doesn't get much use."

He surprised a laugh out of her and even got to play the hero when he pulled her to shore.

"That's a damn shame," she said, her blue eyes twinkling.

Even soggy as a drowned nug, she was the most beautiful woman he ever seen. It was second nature to tug her close and kiss her. Hawke tangled her fingers into his hair, as her mouth opened to him. Their tongues slide together in a familiar dance. He couldn't resist the moan of satisfaction and longing that shook through him.

Hawke. 

His back hit the rock cliff when she slammed him against it. He dragged his palm down her spine so she arched into him and then cupped her ass, securing her to him.

She made little mewling sounds that drove him wild as she tried to get under his robe.  He couldn't make the soaked leather of her pants and breeches budge.

"Maker help me," she breathed.  "I'm going to vanish both our clothes."

"I always wanted. . ." Anders took her mouth again, unable to stop kissing her. "to fight a dragon."  More soul drugging kisses.  "Naked."

"Fenris!" Hawke said, and pushed back.

"No, Anders.  And if you make that mistake again, I'll show you a tantrum that makes Justice look like a sunny day."  Anger filtered around him, but without the homicidal urge he was used to.

"No, I mean we have to help him."

"I don't even see the dragon," he said, squinting in the distance.  He wouldn't mourn if the two beasts managed to kill each other, but for Hawke's sake he pretended to care.

"We need to go back," Hawke said.

"There's no way we're getting back up that way." Anders pointed in the distance.  "Are best bet is to see if there are better footholds down the river or maybe the cliff descends so we can get back up to where we were in Hightown."

"I should be able to just conjure up stairs."  Hawke frowned and stared at the rock wall.

Anders leaned on his staff.  "You know if you want to get out of those wet clothes, I've got your Grand Cleric costume in my backpack."

She snorted.  "I think they're called vestments."

"Whatever.  They're dry."

"Fine," she said and then surprised the hell out of him by vanishing all her clothes.

He was entranced as easily as if she cast a spell.  Her body was fuller, a few more scars, but other than that the same one he saw in his dreams every night.  She caught him gaping and the expression on her face went from confusion to a sultry pout.  The vixen stretched, her heavy breasts lifting to show off tight pink nipples.

"Maker, I want you," he growled out.  The lust demon had been a faded copy of the original.

"Later," she promised.  "When we can take our time."

The images that sped through his mind nearly short-circuited his brain.

"Anders?"

"Yes love," he heard the dazed tone in his voice and tried to pull himself together.

"The warm dry clothes?"

"Right." Anders chuckled and slid the backpack off.  Kneeling down, he rummaged through it. She closed in as he was pulling out her robes.  Her thigh touched his shoulder.  All he had to do was turn his head. He let out a shaky breath. Hawke stroked her fingers through his hair again and he almost purred like a cat.  Faster than he imagined, she fisted his hair and tilted his head back.

"We've got a few minutes," he said, clearing the hoarseness out of his voice.  Her thighs were parted and he grabbed one to throw over his shoulder.  Hawke shrieked in surprise and wiggled free.

"Normally," Anders tossed her the heavy robe.  "I would chase you down.  But you're right.  We should take our time.  I'd rather have you on a bed of feathers than a bed of rocks."

She shimmied into the robe and he was amused that it didn't cool his ardor any.  His cock was still thrumming.  He tossed her the miter.

"You can't be serious," she said.

"Humor me.  It might be the only thing that controls my hard on."

Rolling her eyes, she put it on.  A few curly strands of black hair escaped and rested on her cheek.

"Well?" she asked, spreading her arms and looking like an innocent chantry lass -- if you didn't notice the devil in her eyes.

Anders shook his head.  "No. Now it's just wonderfully perverse."

She licked her lips.  "Are you sure I can't take the edge off?"

Even in his wildest dreams, he'd never pictured Hawke dressed as a Grand Cleric on her knees in front of him.

"Let's get out of here before a horde of demons attack us while I'm fucking you over that rock."  Anders tugged her to her feet.  His hands were shaking.

"That rock over there?"  Hawke pointed and innocently batted her eyes.

He growled at her, but she just laughed.  "Do I look like a Grand Cleric?"

"Yes. Do I look like a Knight Commander?"

"Oddly enough, you do fit the part."  She smiled at him as if he was the whole world and he knew that he would never leave her side.  If she wanted the elf in her bed, he would make room.  If she wanted to go back to Sebastian, well he'd probably start another war.

"Why are you frowning?" she asked him as they walked.

"If any woman could break Sebastian's vow of chastity, I'm not surprised it was you.  However, I need to know you didn't trade your virtue for my safety."

"Virtue?" Hawke gave a short laugh.  "I have never been virtuous."

"Did he force you?"  Anders asked quietly.

Hawke stopped in her tracks.  "Sebastian?"

Anders nodded. "All right, I guess that was a dumb question."

"I wanted him."

Anders flinched.

"I was really pissed off at you."

His jaw tightened.

"But not as much as he was.  He would have led an army after you."

"I was ready," Anders gritted out.  

"I wasn't ready to see you die."  Her voice was soft and full of pain.

"I would have rather faced that army than have you in his bed."

"I wanted to be there."

He closed his eyes against the agony that lanced into all the empty places that Justice left inside of him.  Anders forced himself to ask the next question.  "Do you still?"

"Not for a long time, but he's familiar and convenient."  Her touch on his cheek chased the darkness away and he opened his eyes to get lost in hers.

"You could have been a princess."  He marveled that this incredible woman was still here by his side.  He laced his fingers through hers.

"I don't want to be a princess.  I don't want to be a noble.  And I sure as hell don't want to be Grand Cleric of Kirkwall."

"I love you, Hawke."  The words flew out of him.  "I always have. I never stopped. There has never been anyone else like you.  I will follow you until Leliana's ravens come for me."

"And because I love you, I will stay in Kirkwall and help you rebuild the chantry."  She kissed his forehead.  His cheeks.  And a soft kiss on his mouth that felt like a benediction.

"Do I dare hope that this is real?" Anders said.  "Please don't be a Fade dream.  I won't survive it."

"Have you found the veil opening yet, Mage?"  Fenris shouted from the top of the cliff.

"Fenris!"  Hawke waved at him, happily.

"No dream," Anders said, casting a sour look at the elf.  "It's up ahead.  The distance is throwing me off."

"Well hurry up," Fenris snarled.

"In a moment." Anders kissed Hawke on the neck, never taking his eyes off Fenris. He was rewarded with a scowl.

"Trouble," Hawke said, scenting the air like a wild animal.  "Demons."

"Run," Fenris shouted.

Anders could sense them now.  Hundreds of them, thundering towards them on four legs, two legs, six legs.  He didn't think they would be able to open the veil in time, but at least now he saw the veil.  It would take a good blast of power at close range.  He sent an electrical blast from a distance to test it and the barrier between the two worlds wobbled.  But large spiders dropped down in front of the veil, blocking another shot.

"I hate spiders," Hawke gritted out.

Worse were the little bogarts that were now in striking range.  Instinctively, Hawke and Anders went back to back.  They whirled and danced, pressing through the throng of demons bit by bit.

"Where's Fenris?" she panted out.

Anders spared a look up.  Fenris was crouched at the top of the cliff above them, just watching.  He told that to Hawke.

"That's not Fenris, then," she said.  "He would have leapt down here the moment they attacked."

As she said that,  Fenris shifted and he recognized Justice's stance.  "It's Justice with a spell pretending to be Fenris.  He must be waiting for the demons to soften us up."

"He can wait forever," Hawke snarled.

They fought on, getting closer to the veil but not making a dent in the demons.  The more they killed, the more came to take their place.  Anders' arms were burning from the exertion.  He was weakening.  Still not at full strength from Justice being ripped out of him, Anders knew that he would tire first and the demons would jump over his dead body to get to Hawke.

"Over my dead and cold body," he shouted at the demons.

"I'm sorry, Anders," Hawke said.

"For sleeping with Sebastian?  I accept your apology.  Don't let it happen again."  He cracked a crab-like demon and flung it into the face of a wolf demon.  His barrier held as he powered up for a gust of fire.

She gave a soft laugh.  "For getting you involved in this.  I didn't want anyone to die but me."

"Unacceptable." He blew away a decent path and now faced the first of the spider demons.  "My place is with you."

"You could be sitting near a fireplace with a tankard of ale and  your cat right now," she said.

"Only to go to bed alone and dream of being with you.  No," Anders said.  "There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"The odds aren't looking good," she said, her voice shaky and resolved.

"They never do," Anders pressed back against her, having her back both figuratively and literally.

"They just got better."  Fenris—the real Fenris—sailed above their heads, cutting the spider demon on Anders in half.

"No!" Justice dropped the illusion and jumped down into the midst of a hundred demons who turned on him and attacked.  He was flinging them away with a sweep of his sword and shield.

"Now would be a good time to break that veil, Mage."  Fenris cut through another spider demon.  Hawke jammed her staff into the earth and Anders' ears popped as a blast wave incinerated the first legion of demons.

"Keep them off me," Anders shouted and focused on the weakest spot in the slight tear between the Fade and Thedas.  He parted the veil and then sent a blast of power through it.  A pin prick of reality shone in.  "Hawke, with me.  Everything you've got!" he shouted.

She whirled and added her blast of electricity to his.  Together their bolts writhed into the void and ripped reality wide open.  "One more time."

As they inhaled as one, Anders was aware that Fenris clashed blades with Justice over their heads.  Anders wiped the blood from his nose and sent all of his power through the barrier. Scant seconds later, Hawke's magic burned bright and hot and he could see green grass.

"Move," Anders grabbed her arm and jumped through that hole.

"Fenris," she shouted.

They were falling, falling through space and time.  Through dimensions and alternate realities.  Anders saw himself tranquil, standing next to Sandal in Hawke's rooms.  He saw her tranquil and smiling at him before he thrust a dagger into her heart.  He cradled her in his arms as she died and then he turned the knife on himself.  Then he was in Skyhold holding the hand of a ten-year-old girl with Hawke's eyes and his smile.  They were putting flowers on Marion Hawke's grave.

"No!" Anders shouted.  There had to be a happy ending in one of these times.

Fenris and Hawke holding hands in Skyhold.  Their son, half-elf with Hawke's features, sword danced in the twilight.  Maybe, fate didn't allow Hawke and him a happy ending.

"All right," he sobbed, steering them there.  But Hawke pulled back.

"This way," she said.

He could barely hear her over the howling of the dead and the demons racing them towards the light.

He saw a sumptuous bedchamber and Hawke, Fenris, and him writhed naked together, oblivious to everything but pleasure.

"You're a pervert," he said, joy filling his soul.

Her laughter warmed him and they went sailing down that path.  Only to be knocked aside at the last minute by Justice.


	13. Hawke

Hawke hit the ground hard enough that she heard her collarbone snap as her shoulder wrenched out of the socket. Her staff fell from her nerveless fingers, as she automatically rolled to her feet. Sagging down on one knee when she confirmed there were no enemies to fight, she picked up her staff in her off hand. Looking around, the landscape was bleak and barren. The soil she rested on red, and arid. In the distance she could see a white monument stretching towards the stormy sky. Were they in Thedas or another strange Fade world?

  
Maker Damn it, Justice. She had liked the look of that soft, comfy bed.

  
The rift spat Anders out next and he landed worse than she had. Staring at the rift, she prepared herself for Justice. Hoped for Fenris. Got neither.

  
Anders rolled over on his back and laughed without humor. “Right back to where it all began,” he said, coughing up blood as he forced himself to a sitting position.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“We’re in the Anderfels. That great big white monstrosity over there?”

 

“Weisshaupt,” Hawke whispered.

  
“And that cloud of dust in the distance is probably a squad of Grey Wardens coming to investigate.”

  
Demons chose that time to pour out of the rift they had created with their exit from the Fade.

  
“Because why not?” Anders said, positioning himself back-to-back with Hawke again. “Why wait for the ten strapping soldiers fresh and ready for battle?”

  
“What’s the fun in that?” she answered, bumping her good shoulder into his.

  
Each movement was a jagged lightning bolt of pain, and her legs were wobbling by the time her magic was exhausted.

  
“Can’t they conscript faster horses?” she panted, staying standing only because Anders was supporting her. “They’re not going to make it here in time.”

  
“I didn’t come all this way to lose you now, Hawke.”

  
By the time the Grey Wardens arrived, Hawke and Anders were resorting to swinging their staffs. She was swinging one-handed and had the demons been hurlocks or more serious, she would have already been dead.

  
The Grey Wardens cut their way to them and circled up, allowing them to escape the battleground. Hawke was relieved to limp to the sidelines while the fresh troops waded in. The rift still belched demons, but the speed had slowed to a dull roar. The air still had a feeling of expectancy and in her gut Hawke knew the worst was yet to come.

  
Anders slumped to the ground and she landed on top of him in an ungainly heap. Hawke was pretty sure he was in better shape than she was because he took the opportunity to grope her breast.

  
“Grand Cleric,” a lean young warden said, handing her a healing potion after she smacked Anders’ hand. “You’ve come a long way.”

  
She handed it to Anders, who pushed it back to her. After guzzling it and feeling her broken bones knit back together, the relief was so overwhelming Hawke nearly passed out. Her shoulder popped back into its socket and she bit back a scream.

  
“You have no idea,” Anders said, accepting a healing potion from him.

  
“If you’ve got some lyrium, I can get back into the fight,” Hawke offered.

  
Anders looked at her like she was crazy.

  
“We’ve got this ma’am. But my superior would like a few words with you.”

  
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

  
The Grey Warden cleared his throat. “I respectfully request that you both come with me.”

  
She tensed and Anders groaned. “He asked nicely, Hawke.”

  
Hawke forced herself to her feet and pushed up her sagging miter. “I have a friend still in there.” She pointed to the rift. “I’m not going anywhere until either he comes out or the rift is closed.” The hat sagged in her eyes again. She punched it back up.

  
“We’ve sent word for the Inquisition to close it, but the Inquisitor is very busy. It could take weeks before she gets here.”

  
Hawke gave up on the miter and slammed it into the dirt. Shaking out her long black hair, she glared at the younger man. “You tell her Hawke is here and the Knight Commander and the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall need her assistance.”

  
“Right away, ma’am.” The Grey Warden hurried back to his horse.

  
“Well, that’s telling him,” Anders said. He was filthy, covered in dust and demon gore. His pristine white and gold robes were torn and shredded, stained beyond redemption in blood and guts. She knew she looked no better.

  
“You’re real,” she said.

  
“I wouldn’t hurt so much if I wasn’t,” he added. “Ten years of running an apothecary store doesn’t keep you in shape for demon slaying.”

 

“I missed you.” Hawke let him drag her back down to sit next to him.

  
“Yet you never came looking for me,” he said. He spoke lightly but she sensed the hurt underneath his words.

  
“How do you know I didn’t?”

  
“Because you never found me.” Anders gave her a grim smile.

  
The sound of battle roared around them. Every now and then a small, but feisty, demon would break free and race towards them as if sensing weakness and easy prey. One of them would incinerate it in mid stride, depending on whose magic had trickled back in for the spell.

  
She couldn’t get enough of looking at him. He no longer buzzed with a zealous passion. Quiet, he was a striking man enshrouded in solemnity, which wasn’t him at all. Did he forget to laugh? The lines around his face told a story of grief. She gripped his hand, missing her old friend and lover.

  
“It works both ways, you know,” she reminded him with another shoulder bump. It hurt less this time now that both her arms were in working order. “I wasn’t hard to find.”

  
“Don’t make me grind my teeth,” he said. “I’m too tired. I thought you were in Kirkwall with Fenris. I never dreamed you’d be in Sebastian’s bed. In my dreams, you were always in mine.”

  
“You dreamt about me? That must have annoyed whomever you were with.” She could also speak lightly.

  
“Are you jealous?” He seemed overjoyed.

  
“Why would I be?” Hawke scuffed her shoe in the dirt. “We weren’t together. We still aren’t.”

  
“The hell we’re not,” Anders snarled, and grabbed the back of her head to bring her in for a kiss.

  
She took out a demon with a flick of her staff just before his lips hit hers.


	14. Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NC-17. XXX-rated. You have been warned :D

Anders would have been enjoying his bath a lot more if a certain naked mage was in here with him.  But apparently fraternization was frowned upon in the Grey Warden headquarters.  And while he was here, he was a Grey Warden first and Kirkwall’s Knight Commander second. But at least he was no longer an apostate mage.

As it was, it had taken the offer of a banquet dinner, vintage wine, a soft bed and a bath to tear Hawke away from rift watching.

Still it was wonderful to soak the bruises and relax in the steaming hot tub of water.  If only there wasn’t a ribbon of panic compressing his heart.  Hawke wasn’t in his line of sight.  What if she left him here?  What if Fenris had come through the rift and they were right now wrecking Weisshaupt’s guest room bed at this very minute?  Or worse, what if Hawke had gone looking for him?  What if Justice got to her?

Anders was going to have a nervous breakdown.  He sank under the water.  Hawke was smart and tough and would do whatever the hell she wanted to regardless of what anyone else thought. 

“We’re on our way,” Cole’s ghostly voice came to him.

“Trying to take a bath here,” he thought back.

“We’ll be there by morning.”

“We’ll try to save some demons for you.”  The rift was quiet for now, but it still rumbled and spat out a few demons.  An arcane horror and a terror demon were roaming around as the Grey Wardens tried to stop them at the rift point.  It was like the rift was sending out the cannon fodder first.  In the morning, who knows what would come out.

Maybe Justice.  Maybe Fenris.

Someone kicked the tub and he came back up for a breath.

“Can’t a man have a moment of peace and quiet?”  Anders sputtered, swiping his hair out of his eyes.

“Sorry,” Hawke said, wearing only a towel.  “I’ll go.”

“You walked the halls of Weisshaupt wearing only a towel?” he raged.

She dropped the towel.  “I don’t have to wear it, if it offends you.”  She turned to leave.  Anders was mesmerized by the sway of her ass, but not enough that he was going to let her out the door.

Smiling at him over her shoulder, Hawke looked him up and down as he launched out of the tub.  “I locked the door.  Why don’t you dry off and I’ll pour the wine.”

Fuck the wine.

But he checked himself before he lunged for her.  He would do this right for as long as he could.  “There hasn’t been anyone since you.”  He told her as he scrubbed the water off.

“No one?” She paused in the wine pouring.  “Why?”

“No point,” he said, striding over naked to take the glass from her.  He tanked it in one swallow.  It burned on the way down and buzzed in his stomach.  Say what you want about the Wardens, they knew how to make wine.

He liked how her gaze softened when she looked at him.  She touched the tattoo on his chest.  "Subtle."

It was a hawk, wings spread, claws out to attack -- but the eyes of the bird were hers.  “No one, man or woman, would take your place.”

She looked away.  “I didn’t want you to suffer.”

He pulled her chin back towards him.  “Yes, you did.”

Hawke sighed.  “I suffered too.”

He quirked an eyebrow.  “Sebastian was crap in bed?”

She grinned.  “No.”

“Sorry I asked,” he growled, setting the wine glass on the table.  He took hers from her as well.  Backing her up towards the bed, he couldn’t resist stroking the curve of her hip.  “Enjoy those memories, while you still can.  Because, I’m going to make up for ten years and erase the thought of every other man from your mind.”

Hawke wound her arms around his neck.  “That could take all night.”

“It will,” he promised her.

“We need to talk about Fenris,” she said, as the back of her knees hit the bed.

“Not tonight we don’t.  Tonight, and for always, you are mine.”  He gave her a slight push and she sprawled out on the bed.  “You are so beautiful.”  Anders sighed, joining her on the large bed.  “And now, I’m going to do something I’ve never dreamed of doing.”

“What’s that?”  Hawke’s voice was breathless and she toyed with her nipple.

He was already hard, but seeing her, touching her, caused him to tremble.  Parting her thighs, Anders kissed up her leg.  “I’m going to lick a Grand Cleric until she comes all over my face.”  Then he bit her on the meaty part of her thigh.

Hawke shrieked with laughter and tried to squirm away.  “No fair. You have to wear the Knight Commander outfit if we're going to role play.”

“Use your imagination,” he said.  “I’m improvising here.”  Truth was he was probably going to come the moment he slipped inside of her.  Anders licked her softly, groaning at her sweet taste. Maker’s breath, he was in heaven.  Hawke quivered underneath him as he became greedy for more.  He realized he didn’t need sweet and soft.  He wanted her as crazy for him as he was for her, so the light brushes against her clit became rougher.  Hawke’s legs pressed against the sides of his face.

Her breathing had little hitches that turned to moans as he strummed her bud faster.

Hawke’s fingers tangled in his hair and her hips rose and fell.  Her little “ohs” of pleasure were becoming louder.

So wet.  So good.  He could do this all night as long as she kept making those noises.  Anders gripped himself and with a few jerks, came all over his stomach and bedspread.  He was dizzy from the force of his orgasm.  Her fingers pulled at his hair. She was calling his name over and over again.

Her body tensed and she let herself go, taking in huge gulps of breaths. Hawke whimpered. Anders kissed up her stomach and then to her breasts.  He wanted to hear that noise again. She shook and moaned, wrapping her legs around him.  He was enjoying nibbling on her coral pink tipped nipples while she ran her hands all over his body.

“Mine,” he reminded her, sucking deeply on one nipple while cupping her other breast in his hand.

“Anders,” she groaned, reaching for his cock.

Her hand on him nearly undid him.  “Hawke,” he choked.  He had forgotten the sweetness in her grip. He was throbbing in seconds.  He went back to her chest while she played with him with an expert touch. 

“Mine,” he gasped out when his second orgasm threatened to shudder out of control.

She purred in satisfaction when he came again, nuzzling her throat and dragging his teeth over the sensitive spot in her neck.  Hawke didn’t let him go.

“Say it,” he said. “Say you’re mine.”  But he didn’t give her the chance because he couldn’t bear not to have his mouth on hers, her tongue against his.  The little witch threw her leg over his hip and guided his cock inside her.

Molten heat engulfed him.  Anders’ eyes rolled back in his head.

So fucking good.

Her hand clamped on his ass, her fingernails digging into him.  He was lost in the sensation of pleasure as their bodies slammed into each other. Maybe later they would move together like an ocean wave of bliss, but for right now it was violent and hard.  He would wear her marks proudly as her teeth attacked his neck and her nails made a wreck of his back.

“Harder,” she gasped out.  “More.”

Anders shook the bed with his thrusts, out of control and near out of his mind with lust.  The world could end.  The damned Inquisition could tear Weisshaupt down like they did Adamant and nothing would have dragged him away from this moment.  From her.

“Mine.”

Hawke’s arms stretched above her head.  If he had rope, he would have tied her to the bed, tied her to him so she was never out of his sight again.  He rested his palms by her head and stared down at her lovely face.  Hawke’s eyes were wide and her mouth was open in a silent scream.  She tightened around him as she came, milking him until he was shaking with emotion.

“Mine.  Say it, damn you.  Say you’re mine.”

Hawke’s eyes fluttered closed as she came apart.  “I’m yours,” she moaned.  Then grabbed his face.  “But I’m also his,” she whispered.

He knew that in his gut.  But it didn’t matter.  Nothing mattered but him and her and this perfect moment.

“Not tonight, you’re not.” 


	15. Hawke and Anders

“I wish to speak with you.”

Hawke sat bolt upright in bed, clutching the covers to her chest. Anders paused, mid-snore, rolled over and tugged the blankets out of her hands as he rolled over.

Fenris raised an eyebrow and she saw his gaze travel down her body.

“You’re alive,” Hawke whispered.

But Fenris was translucent.

“No,” he said. “Get dressed. We can speak out on the battlements.” Then he vanished.

“This better not be a dream,” she muttered, getting out of bed. Since she had only been wearing a towel, she rummaged through Anders’ wardrobe and pulled out a standard Grey Warden trousers and shirt. Belting the trousers to keep them from slipping down, she considered grabbing Anders’ staff for protection. But since she didn’t want him to be unarmed, she decided to take her chances without it.

“Grand Cleric,” a guard nodded to her as she headed up to the battlements.

“Warden,” Hawke replied, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and knotting it when the wind kept blowing it in her face.

When she was on top of the castle, she walked towards the edge of the building to get a better look at the rift. She leaned against the stone and crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s getting bigger,” she said to no one.

Fenris answered her in her ear. “The Inquisitor will be here tomorrow morning. I’ve come to say good-bye.”

She turned but he wasn’t there. “What? What do you mean good-bye?”

“I have no body. I am a spirit here. I belong in the Fade.”

Hawke hated that she couldn’t see him. “You belong with me.”

“Maybe at one time I did. No longer.”

“Can you become visible again?”

A shimmer in the air showed that he was standing closer than she thought he was. Resisting taking a step back, she tried to put her hand on his shoulder, but it passed right through him.

“What’s happening?” she said.

“I’m fading away.”

“Kiss me,” she said, pressing her lips to where his mouth was. It had worked in the Fade. He had healed her with his life force; maybe she could do the same to him.

At first, she thought he would step away. But then she felt a buzz of cold on her lips that warmed slowly as power ebbed out of her.

“Stop.” Fenris thrust her away from him.

He was more solid.

“Let me give you some of my magic.” Hawke leaned into him.

“No.” Fenris tugged her close and he was real, until all of a sudden he wasn’t. His embrace faded like the rest of him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do this,” she said. “I need you.”

“You have Anders. He is free of Justice. You no longer need me.”

“I will always need you,” Hawke said. “We can make this work. I can provide you with sustenance the same way to helped me in the Fade.”

“That was different,” he said. “If I feed from you, I am no better than a demon. You would make me an abomination. One day, it wouldn’t be enough that you gave me your essence freely. One day, I would demand it and take from you. I would cease to be Fenris that day.”

“You would never do that,” Hawke reasoned, but it was hard to reason with thin air.

“I have made my decision,” he said.

“Doesn’t my opinion matter?” She groped around for him, but couldn’t find him. “This isn’t fair, damn you. You can’t come back from the dead and then go back to your grave.”

“I have never come back from the dead,” he said. “I am dead. And when that time comes for you—whether it is days from now or my sincerest hope, many decades from now—when you enter the Fade, I will be waiting for you and we will be together forever.”

“What if Anders teaches me how to open the veils? Can I see you before I die?” Hawke knew she was grasping at straws.

Was she imagining Fenris’ hand stroking her hair?

“You know that is too dangerous. I will always love you, Hawke. Nothing will change that. Not time. Not distance.”

“Please stay.” Hawke blinked back tears. “Haunt the Kirkwall chantry. You died nearby. We could make a great story about how an elven warrior protects Kirkwall and on All Saints Day you can see him pissing on Meredith’s statue.”

“That sound more like something Varric would do,” Fenris said and the hint of a smile in his voice undid her.

She slumped to the wall with her eyes closed. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Sweetheart? You all right?” Anders’ hand was warm on her shoulder. Hawke turned into his arms and hugged him with all her might. He wasn’t going anywhere. She realized he was fully armored up and carried his staff like he was prepared to use it.

Hawke straightened and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll be fine. Why are you dressed for battle?”

“The Inquisitor will be here soon. You should get ready.”

Hawke nodded. “Yeah.” She kissed him on the cheek and walked back to her room. If Fenris was still with her, he didn’t speak again.

  
***

  
Anders watched her go. When she left the roof, he said, “Hold it right there, Elf.”

Anders saw Fenris pause from following Hawke and glance back at him.

“Yeah, I can see you,” Anders said. “I saw you last night too, watching.”

Fenris narrowed his eyes at him and stalked back into striking range.

“You’re breaking her heart,” Anders said, and then played his trump card. “Again.”

Fenris flinched. “I would have thought this would please you. With me out of the way, there is no other rival.”

“You are not my rival.” Anders looked out into the rift. “You never were.”

“I beg to differ.”

“She never will choose between us. If you hadn’t left, she would have never allowed me into her heart. I owe you for that. But now that we’ve both broken her heart and have returned, she won’t let either of us go.“

"She has no choice," Fenris said.

Anders shook his head.  "This is Marian Hawke we're talking about."

Fenris' lips quirked in a smile.  "I was a fool to have left her all those years ago. I was a fool to let you get close to her. If there was any other way, I would not choose to leave her now. It galls me that you will be with her when I cannot."

"Then don't leave her.  Don't leave her crying in my arms.  Don't leave her in my bed where you can't watch," Anders taunted.  "At the very least, I would think you would want to see me put together the Kirkwall chantry that I destroyed.  Justice for the justice I dealt out."

“I should kill you for the evil you have done. You do not deserve Hawke.” Fenris snarled and stalked closer to Anders.

“You’re not going to harm me,” Anders said, flicking his staff and knocking Fenris back with a blast of air. “You would have drowned me in the bathtub instead of glaring at me from across the room last night. Or you would have ripped me open while I lay sleeping next to her. Or you would use the last of your energy right now to strike a blow and push me off of the battlements.” Anders stepped out on the ledge.

“Your death would be a true justice for the lives you've taken.” Fenris crept even closer to him.

Anders braced himself for a blow. “Tell me. If you had a bomb and the chance to blow up the Tevinter Arcanum, would you do it? To rid the world of your hated magisters?”

Fenris glared at him. “Of course.”

Anders leaned against the wall and faked a casualness he didn’t feel. “Even at the loss of innocent lives?”

“There are no innocents in a Tevinter Arcanum.”

“There were no innocents in the Kirkwall Chantry.” Anders leaned forward to get into the spirit’s space, daring him to attack.

Fenris glared at him.

“It _**is**_ the same,” Anders said.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” Fenris gritted his teeth.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You don’t know me, Mage,” Fenris said.

“I know more about you than you think.” Anders hopped back from the edge, not trusting Fenris’ restraint. “I know you would bring her back into the Fade with you if you thought you could protect her from the demons.”

“I would not risk her. Not for anything.” Fenris bowed his head.

“I know you love her and that she loves you.”

“She loves you too,” Fenris admitted. “Maker knows why.”

“Maker knows why.” Anders agreed. “It would be fun to have you around Kirkwall again. You could haunt Denarius’ mansion.”

“I meant what I said to her. One day I would hunger for more than she could safely give me. I would rather wait in the Fade for her than have her see me die at her feet again.”

Anders took a deep breath. He must be crazy to offer this to Fenris of all people. “I could also feed you.”

Fenris’ expression would have been comical if it weren’t for the disgust written all over his face.

“You’re not making it easy to be altruistic,” Anders said.

“I have made my decision,” Fenris said. “I will spend my last moments with her.” He turned to leave. Anders watched him go. As he was about to pass through the wall, Fenris turned back to him. “Thank you. . . Anders.”

“There, that didn’t kill you did it?”

Fenris growled and disappeared.


	16. Cole

_The Prince sees her first. Even at this distance, his heart recognizes Hawke. He gallops away from us. He never believed he would see her again. Is she a demon? Or has the Maker saved her newest cleric?_

  
_Anders wonders if a lightning bolt would knock the Prince on his ass. He doesn’t want to hurt Sebastian. Just humiliate him in front of Hawke. Bonus, if he breaks his nose. Put a flaw in that fairy book face of his._

“Kid, you’re a better story teller than I am,” Varric says.

I smile at him, safe underneath the big brim of my hat.

“Is she a demon?” The Iron Bull asks.

_She’s sad. Fenris is leaving her. No. Now, she’s annoyed. Anders is wondering aloud if he turns Sebastian into a frog, would Hawke’s kiss turn him back?_

“It’s my sister,” Carver says.

“Fenris?” Varric asks uneasily.

_Fenris is impatient. Doesn’t the Inquisitor know that each moment by her side is a torture?_

“We’ll be there in a few minutes," the inquisitor says.

“Hawke! Don’t put your back to the rift!” I shout.

“What’s happening?” Carver nudges his horse to a full gallop.

_The Prince sees it first. He vaults off his horse while reaching for his arrows._

  
_The barbed harpoon plunges through her chest. Hooks her and draws her back towards the rift._

“No!”

“No!”

“No!”

“Maker, no.”

“I will not allow this.”

_Fenris, solid as a human, slams his great sword down on the harpoon chain, severing it. Hawke is no longer being dragged. Sebastian falls to his knees, fumbling for healing potions._

“Holy shit, Boss, that’s a lot of demons.”

_Pandemonium. Wardens dying, fighting, killing._

_Fenris’ hands glow blue and reach into her chest to wrench the claws of the harpoon out of her. Then he fades. It was all he had left. The Prince is trying to close her chest wound with his hands._

“I need more potions. I’m losing her.”

“Close, damn you.” The Inquisitor reaches her hand up and forces her power through the mark in her hand.

_Doesn’t anyone see Anders?_

_During the storm of demons, a second harpoon had shot out of the rift and hit him through the thigh. It’s trying to drag him in. But he yanks the chain and Justice_ falls _out of the rift. Only it’s a colossal rage demon. It tries to engulf him, but it is no longer welcome. It needs Hawke._

“Hawke!” It roars her name, stepping on Anders and crushing his bones.

Carver, Varric, and I attack it.

“Bull, get in there. Dorian, keep them off me.”

“Use your mark. Close the fucking rift.”

“Maker, please save your devoted cleric.”

“Devoted?” A watery chuckle.

“Hawke, don’t you dare joke at a time like this.”

“Fenris?” Her hand reaches up.

"Fenris is dead,” Sebastian says kindly. He smoothes his bloody hand over her cheek.

“So am I,” she whispers. There is a smile on her face as her eyes flutter close.

_The Prince’s grief feels like smashed glass ground into his heart. She’s dying in his arms and he can’t do anything._

The hurt. I have to stop all the hurt.

“More potions, Sir.” A warden collapses next to Sebastian.

Hawke’s wounds close as the influx of magical healing overpowers her deadly damage.

 _The Seeker walks over to Anders._ Crouches _next to him. He’s barely breathing. Good. Justice for the chantry. Anders’ eyes flutter open._

"Hawke?” he croaks.

“Dead,” she says, not giving him the peace of knowing his love will live.

_Pain. He failed her. In the end. He couldn’t save her. Death is welcome. Let him no longer feel. Maker cast him into whatever pit you have. He deserves it._

  
_The rift implodes. The demons freeze. The rift grows smaller._

  
“You can’t leave her.” I walk over to Fenris. Carver, Varric and Bull finish off the rage demon that used to be a spirit of Justice. “She can’t lose you both.”

“What would you have me do?” Fenris watches Sebastian carry Hawke from the battlefield.

The rift is getting smaller. Fenris allows himself to drift closer to it.

“Save him.” I point at Anders.

Cassandra has left to finish off the weakened demons.

“You are so much alike,” I tell him.

Fenris snorts.

“You were both slaves. Both abused. Both killed your Masters. Both loved the same woman. Both betrayed her. Both would give your lives for her. Both will leave her to Sebastian on the same day.”

Fenris’ lips clamp down into a hard line. “He is better for her than either of us.”

"She doesn’t love him. She never will.” I drag him over to Anders who has sunk into the final stages of death.

I take a deep breath. I have to cause hurt in order to heal the hurt.

_She refuses the position of Grand Cleric. She becomes a Grey Warden like her brother. She lives in the Deep Roads. She dies at the hands of dark spawn. She becomes a brood mother._

“No.” Anders' eyelids shoot open. His hands clench into fists.

“That’s not her future,” Fenris grits out. “She becomes the Princess of Starkhaven. She joins Isabella’s pirate crew. She becomes the Vicountess of Kirkwall.”

_She dies alone. Heartbroken and defeated._

“No.” Anders tries to sit up, but can’t.

“You can stop that future from happening. But you have to overcome your differences.” I pour two healing potions down Anders' throat. It’s enough for him to start healing his body, but not enough to save his life.

Not enough to save hers.

Fenris looks at the rift. Then he looks at Hawke’s limp form over Sebastian’s lap as he rides back to Weisshaupt. Then down at Anders.

“He’ll never agree to it,” Fenris grounds out.

“Agree to what?” Anders’ eyes glow with the power he’s struggling to hold on to.

“We’re going to regret this,” Fenris tells him.

_Fenris lies down next to Anders. Turns his face so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. Kisses him. A soft brush on the lips. Anders’ lips part in surprise. Fenris doesn’t have enough strength to heal him. Anders doesn’t have enough to make Fenris whole. But there is an empty spot in Anders that Fenris can slip into and cohabitate as Justice did. Fenris is expecting Anders to shove him away. But Anders gathers him close and Fenris settles into Anders._


	17. Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Threesome action. Hot sex warning ahead. NC-17

"I want to see him."  Hawke squared off on the two wardens outside of Anders room.

"I'm sorry Grand Cleric.  He isn't ready for visitors."

"Come," Sebastian said with a gentle hand on her arm.  "We need to leave for Kirkwall."

"Kirkwall can damn well wait until Anders is ready to travel."  Hawke was barely moving herself, but she could force herself to travel if it meant going home.  She wasn't leaving without Anders, however.  She regarded Sebastian and wondered how best to play out this situation.  "You're right," she said sweetly, in a turn around that had the wardens blinking at her.  Leaning in to nuzzle Sebastian's ear, Hawke whispered, "Can you get the horses ready?"

Sebastian had men to do that for him, but Hawke knew that because she asked he would see to it personally.  

"Of course, Grand Cleric."  He blushed from her light brush of her lips on his cheek and left the corridor.

When he was out of earshot, Hawke cracked her knuckles.  "I've let you stonewall me for a week.  Either you let me in or I'll go through you."

The wardens looked at each other.  One shrugged.  The other sighed.  "Our orders . . ."

"Mean fuck all to me," she finished.

"If you get hurt, it's on our heads."

"Anders won't hurt me."

They exchanged looks again.

She narrowed her eyes at them. "What?"

"We're not sure it's Anders."

"Let me in."  She moved forward and the warden opened the door.

The room was dark and the air stale.  Hawke went to the window and opened the drapes.

"I said leave me alone."

That was Anders' voice.

"Are you too sick to travel?" she asked.  

He was huddled under the covers, shaking.  "They said you had gone."

"They lied," Hawke said, sitting on the edge of the bed.  She put a hand on his forehead.  His eyes were wild and he was feverish.  "They said you weren't conscious and the healer refused me entry because you needed the rest.

With a fast movement, Anders tugged her hand and pulled her into the bed with him.  Straddling her, he pinned her arms over her head.

"Are we playing games again?  Am I going to be the apostate mage and you can be the templar?"  She batted her eyelashes at him, but her heart was racing.  She didn't recognize the look in his eyes.  It was tortured and pained.

He stared down at her as if she was speaking a different language.  "That's not funny," he finally said, releasing her.

"I need you to get dressed," she said, rolling him over on his back.  This time, she straddled him.

"You're not giving me much incentive to do that," Anders said with a smirk that had traces of his old self in it. His hand rested possessively on her hip.

"What is going on with you?" Hawke said when he stared blankly up at her.

The haunted look returned.  "Not here.  Not now."

Hawke got off the bed and strode to the closet.  She tossed him the new Knight Commander uniform that Leilana had sent.  Five more just like it were already in Kirkwall, waiting for him.  "Get dressed.  I'm not leaving until you do.  We've stayed too long here as it is."

"Promise me," he said.

She looked over at him as he slipped the clothes on.  "What?"

"Promise me that you won't leave me.  Or all that I have done will be for naught."

"What have you done?" she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'll explain once we're in Kirkwall. But you have to get me out of here.  They're not going to let me leave."

Hawke set her jaw.  "I'd like to see them try and stop me."

In the end, it took Sebastian's bureaucracy more than Hawke's anatomically incorrect threats to open the gates of Weisshaupt.  But it was obvious that the wardens had bigger problems they were worried about.  For some bizarre reason, Anders insisted on taking a two-handed sword and kept it strapped to his horse.  Hawke caught him handling the grip several times, yet he barely touched the staff that sat across his back. Hawke was hoping some bandit warlord would have the stupid idea to attack their convoy so they could blow off some steam.  After all, Starkhaven's banners were dripping with wealth and they were dressed up as chantry.  But in the end it was a quiet, if long and arduous trip. Sebastian's guards escorted them back to Kirkwall in a journey that was so fueled with tension Hawke's nerves were frayed to the breaking point by the time they caught sight of Varric.

"May I present, the Viscount of Kirkwall," the seneschal proclaimed, gesturing to Varric.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her.  Well, why not?  "No one else wanted the job?" she asked.

"Welcome Grand Cleric and Knight Commander," Varric said.  "I've finished construction on the new chantry. We can take a tour of that once you are refreshed from your travels.  Your mansion has been prepared for your arrival."

"Thank you, Viscount.  Won't you stop by later?"  Hawke replied, grinning. "And bring the Captain of the guard."  She couldn't wait to see Aveline.

"Actually," Anders said, speaking for the first time that day.  "Why don't you leave the visit until tomorrow? We're very tired."

Hawke looked at him in concern.  She nodded and then caught Varric's eye and indicated Sebastian.

Varric bowed.  "Prince, I welcome you with all the pomp and circumstances of state.  Let us retire to my office where we can get the formalities out of the way."

Hawke didn't need to be told twice.  She nudged her horse through Varric's men and galloped towards home.  It wasn't until she realized Anders had fallen behind, that she drew up and waited for him.  

"You're starting to worry me," she said.

"Just starting?" he joked.

"If you're regretting this," Hawke began as a pain stabbed her heart.

"Stop."  He held up a hand.  "I regret nothing.  I'll explain once we're safe behind your walls."

But it took another two hours to get through the welcomes and the well wishers, Sandal's shouted enchantments and Spike's enthusiastic welcome before they were shut inside her bedroom, alone. Anders groaned and flopped on his back on the bed.  Hawke paced the room, touching things.  "Do you think we're really here?  Or did we never leave the Fade?"  Her voice sounded high and panicked rather than the flippant amusement she was going for.

"We are no longer in the Fade."

Yet, that wasn't Anders' voice.  Whirling, Hawke choked on a sob as Fenris glided out of Anders.  Anders convulsed and groaned again.

"Thank the Maker. You give me a headache," Anders bitched.

Fenris walked towards her, real and solid.  She raised a shaky hand and touched him.  "You're real.  You're here.  You're alive."  She threw himself into his arms.

"I'm real.  I'm here.  I'm alive," Anders said from the bed.  He had put an arm over his eyes to block out the light in the room.

"I don't understand," Hawke said.

"I've taken Justice's place inside Anders." Fenris kissed the top of her head.

"But you're standing in front of me."

"The mage...Anders," Fenris corrected, "Can sustain me so that I can temporarily act independently."

Hawke pushed away from Fenris and sat on the bed next to Anders. "At what cost?" She poked him when he didn't answer.

"Ow." He grabbed her finger.  "Nothing I can't bear."

"Anders," she warned.

He pulled her down on top of him, rolling her to the side.  "It's going to take some getting used to," he said. "That's all."

"And some compromise," Fenris said as he got into bed with them, spooning into Hawke's back. "We have very different views on how we should act."

"How I should act.  It's my body."

Hawke trembled and a little moan squeaked out when Anders pressed into her so she was sandwiched between them.  "Now, I know we haven't left the Fade. The spider demon killed me.  This has all been a Fade mind fuck."

"No," Anders said, brushing the tear that leaked down her cheek. "Just two men who couldn't leave you at any cost."

Fenris gathered the hair off the back of her neck and bit her hard.

Her startled scream turned to a laugh.  She cupped Fenris' hardness, even as she twisted her other arm around Anders' neck.

"You're ruining the moment, Abomination," Anders said.

"Go fuck yourself," Fenris shot back.

"Oh maker this is real," Hawke took in a shaky breath. "I get to have both of you."

"Better still," Anders said, as he and Fenris took off her clothes.  "We get to have you."

"What's the catch?" Hawke asked, eagerly helping them.

She caught the look they shared.

"Shut up Hawke," Fenris said, pulling her around to face him.  She felt Anders shuck off his clothes as Fenris did his damnedest to stop her from thinking about anything but his hard, punishing kisses.

She was wrenched out of his arms to face Anders who put all his love and passion into a sweet kiss that was sexy because they were pressed naked together.  As their tongues touched and swirled, Fenris also shed his clothes.

"Nothing will harm you. I swear it," Fenris said, in her ear before tipping her chin back towards him so he could continue to plunder her mouth. 

Undaunted, Anders kissed down to her breasts.  Fenris eased her onto her back and pulled her thighs open.  He pressed against her hip, his cock hot and demanding.  Anders worshipped her breasts with his hands and mouth.  She wanted to get more answers.  She knew they were hiding something from her, felt it in the deliberate way they were distracting her.  Not that she minded.  In fact, this was a dream come true.  Fenris' kiss was blistering and when he touched her between her thighs she came apart.  His mouth took in her moans.  With a last pluck of her nipples, Anders melted down between her legs.  He flung Fenris' hand away and licked her slit from top to bottom.

"Please," she groaned as Fenris moved down to her breasts.  

Anders was relentless with his tongue, pulling her thighs over his shoulders so he could bury his face deeper.

Fenris' mouth was hot and his teeth grazed her sensitive nipples.  He was feral with need. She could feel it in his body as he thrust against her.  

"Come up here," she whispered.

"Who?" Fenris said.

"Either one of you."

But Anders was too busy lapping at her, circling her clit until she rode his face, her hands clutching at his ponytail.  Fenris knelt by the pillow and she eagerly turned her head to accept his hard cock into her mouth.  He massaged her breasts as she sucked on the tip before taking him deep in her throat.  His guttural snarl of pleasure had her tightening her thighs on Anders head and she tipped over into another mind shattering orgasm.  Her body went limp as Anders came up for air. She bobbed her head up and down Fenris' shaft, so intent on making him lose the tenuous grip he had on his control that she forgot that Anders wasn't about to be done with her.

Her knees were pushed back to her chest and Anders plunged inside her.  She swallowed and Fenris shook apart while Anders thrust into her with powerful strokes.  She was jelly, powerless between them to do anything but lie back and enjoy the sensations.  Fenris leaned back against the headboard and watched.  She caught him brooding and took his hand and placed it on her stomach.

"Touch me," she gasped out, breathless from the force of Anders pounding into her.

Fenris smiled, an evil crook of his lips that tightened her nipples in reaction.  Anders tightened his grip on her thighs and moved faster.  His jaw was clenched.  His eyes wild and dangerous.  "Mine," he ground out.

"Mine," Fenris said, finding her clit and pinching it.

Hawke keened and clamped her pussy around Anders who choked out a shout and came deep inside her.  She had no time to recover when Fenris pushed Anders off her and was on top of her.  

"Hold her," Fenris snarled.

"I'm not going anywhere," she gasped, as Anders held her hands over her head.

Fenris slid easily inside of her and increased the pace.

"I know," Fenris said, kissing the side of her neck.  "I just like the idea of you completely at my mercy."

"Our mercy," Anders said.

She felt his magic arch over to her, a slight electrical buzz on her nipples.  "Not fair," she gasped out.  Her body stretched and arched into each one of Fenris' thrusts.  Her thighs were trembling. Every nerve was on fire and aching.  She had never felt like this.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Anders grow hard again and she turned her head.  "Come here," she said.

Anders stroked her face as she sucked him back to full hardness as Fenris pounded her towards another orgasm.

"I love you so much, Hawke," Anders said.  "I would do anything for you."

She moaned in pleasure, tasting herself on him.

Fenris took her in long, deep strokes, going into the hilt and then drawing almost out of her.  Anders gripped her head as his breathing came choppy and short.  "Fuck, but I like watching him make you come."

Fenris snarled at him.

"Would you take me that rough?" Anders asked him.

The thought shuddered through her in pleasure and she came screaming around Anders' cock.

With a satisfied grunt, Anders' eyes rolled back in his head and his pleasure followed.

Fenris took his time.  Anders curled up next to them and kissed her.  When he dared to touch Fenris' back, Fenris knocked his hand away, but that only drew a tired chuckle from Anders.

"Look at me, Hawke," Fenris said.

Hawke was nearly beyond conscious thought.  Her entire body was an erogenous zone.

"I will return to you.  I will always protect you. And I will always love you."

She reached to hold him close to her. "Fenris," she moaned, shaking from every pleasure filled thrust. 

Anders leaned in to trace his tongue over her ear.  "Come," he ordered her, nipping her earlobe. 

As if he cast a spell, Hawke's body reacted and she was speechless with the intensity of her orgasm. 

"I am yours," Fenris said, clutching her tightly.  Fenris' was lighting inside her now.  He ground his mouth down on hers, kissing her as his body shook with spasms of desire.  He became less tangible.

"No," Hawke cried, trying to keep him from fading into that familiar blue mist.

"He'll be back," Anders murmured against her neck.

Fenris wisped into a thin blue vapor and sank into Anders' body. Anders shuddered and flinched, wrenching away from her as his arms flailed.

"Anders," Hawke cried sitting up as he curled into a fetal position.  He was burning up.  His eyes clenched tightly.  "Anders," she said again.

He shook like he was going to be torn apart.  But as soon as it started, it was over and he lay panting on his back.

"Was it good for you too?" he joked, gasping for breath.


	18. Anders

Unlike Justice, hosting the spirit of Fenris was a constant struggle for dominance. Except when Fenris' energy was spent, like it was now. Anders was alone in his head and the quiet started out blissful, but by the afternoon it was frightening. His nerves weren't just on edge, they were trying to claw their way out of his body. Hands shaking, he got dressed and left the comforts of Hawke's mansion. Walking the cobblestones of Kirkwall, his shoulder blades twitched as if a crossbow was sighting in between them. Anders wore his chantry uniform like armor, feeling like a hypocrite and a fake all rolled up into one. Craning his neck, he looked up at the newly built chantry and folded his arms.  It was pretty.  If you liked flying buttresses and stained glass.  

"Try not to blow this one up, Blondie."

Maybe he hadn't imagined the crossbow after all.

"Is she inside?" he asked, inclining his head at Varric.

"Yeah, she's giving Sebastian benediction."

Anders tensed. "I hope that's not a euphemism for something that's going to get the Prince dead."  Just because he was willing to share Hawke with Fenris didn't mean he was going to be so understanding about another man in her bed.

"While Hawke is not going to be your typical Grand Cleric, I'm pretty sure her blessings are done fully clothed."

Anders snorted. "So much for my idea for raising church attendance."

"Are you ready to meet your men, Knight Commander?"  Varric walked ahead of him towards the barracks.

Anders had a sneaking suspicion that "no" wasn't the correct answer.  His fingers twitched and he wished he had thought to bring his two-handed sword. Anders shook his head, scrunching his eyes closed.  No.  He didn't use a two-handed sword.  His staff was across his back, but hopefully he wouldn't have to use it.

Varric was impatiently waiting for him.

"Fine."  Anders followed him.

Templars stood at attention in front of their bunks.  This could possibly be his worst nightmare.  What if they all decided that he was just an apostate mage and threw him in a cell? Sweat trickled down his back and he had to force himself to breathe evenly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Knight Commander Anders."  Varric walked to the middle of the room and gestured to him.

His feet were rooted in the doorway.  There was no way he was going to let them surround him.  Anders managed a nod that he hoped made him appear cool and confident, as opposed to being five seconds away from shitting his pants in terror.

Most of the templars looked at him in curiosity.  Anders had the appalling thought that most of them were children when the templars were under Meredith's rule.  He was probably the boogie man to most of them.  You better eat all your vegetables and say your prayers to the Maker otherwise Anders will come and blow you up.  Of course a few of them looked at him with anger and challenge, just because they were templars and he was a mage.  He had to remind himself that this was a new chantry.  And that he needed to watch out for the non traditional templars.  Anders nodded at an elf and a qunari, this time feeling some steel in his backbone.  He also saw a few staffs, so there were mages in the barracks as well.  He wondered if they felt as much out of place as he did.

"Knight Commander, these ten men and women are the Grand Cleric's elite guards.  Each of them command a division of ten soldiers, which make up the hundred templars in Kirkwall."

"I am looking forward to working with all of you.  My door is always open and all that rot."  Anders started out well, but the odd formality didn't suit him.  He leaned against the door frame and pulled out his staff and twirled it.  "Look, we're going to be facing a shitstorm from Divine Victoria's detractors.  Let me tell you something about the new Divine.  She's no joke.  Anyone dumb enough to go against her is going to fail.  For better or worse, she thought that Marion Hawke would be the Grand Cleric that Kirkwall needed."  Anders took three steps into the room and stared down one of the templars that had been sneering at him. "You could do a hell of a lot worse."  He turned away and looked up at the qunari female who was sporting a black eye.  "Unfortunately, she also thought that making me Knight Commander was a good idea.  I think it's more like giving the wolf the keys to the hen house.  So let me lay it out for you.  I don't care if you're in bed for curfew or whose bed you're in at light's out."

Varric groaned.

"I don't give a hairy rat's ass if your daddy was a templar or if your mommy was an apostate.  I care about Marion Hawke, and the right for any man or woman to live safe and free within the walls of Kirkwall.  Anything other than those two things are just messy details that I can't be bothered with -- especially before coffee. And for Maker's sake, if you have a question, just ask.  Don't start rumors or any of that other playground bullshit. I may not have the answer you want, but I'm not going to lie to you and hide behind that 'It's the Maker's will' crap."

Varric was glaring at him, so Anders figured he'd better say something inspirational.  "Kirkwall has an armed militia.  And while we are a trained fighting corps with spiffy outfits and shiny weapons, we're also a fucking church."

There were a few flinches at his language.  But it was better they got an idea that this wasn't their mother's chantry anymore.

"So we're going to devote the time we have on serving the population by helping people.  Pretty words on a pulpit and catchy chants are one thing, but if you want to win the hearts and mind of a people, you give food to the hungry and build shelter for the homeless. You provide them with opportunity and you ride hard on the people who want to profit from other people's suffering. We will be a shoulder to cry on, a friendly ear to listen, and above all two helping hands and a strong back to carry this community and rebuild it into a city worth it's reputation."

Anders thought he did a pretty good job.  Varric had stop scowling and a few of the templars were regarding him thoughtfully.  But then an older man stepped forward, Bryce.  He hadn't recognized him at first because he was one of the last templars in the barracks and he had remained close to his bunk.  Bryce had been in Meredith's corps.  Bryce had been charged to arrest him and while he had a few close calls, thanks to Hawke's assistance, Bryce never had been successful.

"Rebuilding because you destroyed this city," Bryce accused.

Anders smirked.  "Yes."

There were a few gasps and Varric slapped a hand over his face.

"And let us not forget the reason why I destroyed the chantry.  It was because of the former Knight Commander, Meredith. She was a frightful bitch even before the red lyrium took her sanity."

Bryce bristled in anger and for a moment, Anders thought that he'd have his first fight in the middle of the templar barracks after all.

"The Viscount over here," Anders pointed, just to remind Bryce that Varric had Bianca in hand and would hopefully back Anders up in a fight. "He can relate to you the dangers he encountered with what the red lyrium did to humans, but I'll give you the short version.  It destroyed them and made them mindless tools of a warped magister."

An elf raised her hand.

"What's your name?" Anders asked.  He should make them wear name tags.

"Mellicent, sir.  I thought you were for mage rights."

"Being a mage doesn't give you carte blanche to be an asshole."  He pinned another look at the sneering templar.  "Nor does being a templar."

A human male raised his hand.  Anders was beginning to feel like he was a school teacher.  He nodded at him.  "You have a question?"

"Howard, sir.  Is it true you have a spirit of justice inside you?"

Anders felt Fenris stir. "Not anymore."

Another hand shot up, a male elf this time.  "Go ahead," Anders said.

"Tavi, sir.  Did you really enter the Fade to rescue the Grand Cleric?"

"All right. All right," Varric said.  "That's enough questions for one day.  Don't believe every thing you read, kid.  Unless I wrote it.  The Knight Commander has a lot of things to do today.  He'll meet with all of you individually and you can speak your mind then."

Anders met Tavi's eyes and nodded.  "The Inquisitor tossed me into a portal.  I forced my way out and then the Inquisition forces and the Grey Wardens had to clean up the mess."

"You brought demons into this world for the sake of one woman?" Bryce cried out.

Anders looked him dead in the eye.  "Not just any woman.  Marion Hawke."


End file.
